Darkness
by WinchesterKarma67
Summary: Starts early season 10 will continue indefinitely. You & Dean were in a relationship when he died. As the situation worsens, you start to wonder if there's any hope at all of getting the old Dean back. Protective Sam! Protective Castiel! Protective Dean! Demon!Dean, ReaderxDean. Warning: mentions abuse & self harm
1. Chapter 1

As you sat on the bed alone in a dark motel room, you wondered if you'd made the right decision. You loved Dean, he lit up everything around him, before the mark took him—before Crowley twisted him. You thought that if you stayed with him through the darkness, you could be a reminder of that light for him.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

You would've followed Dean to the homeless encampment. That morning, he asked you—begged you for something for the first time ever. Dean never asked you for anything.

"You have to stay in the bunker Y/N. Please."

"Dean, listen, you can use me. I can be a distraction—or I can cover your back."

"No Y/N… You don't understand." Dean's voice started to break. "You see, I haven't told Sammy this yet… But the blade, it's doing something to me."

You closed your eyes and brought up the topic you'd been avoiding. "I know it's been making you sick Dean. I've heard you in the bathroom at night." You touched his shoulder tenderly. "Is it getting worse?"

Dean furrowed his brows. "Wait, you've known about that?"

You looked down. "I wanted to give you the chance to tell me."

Dean held you close and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of his embrace. "Y/N, I'm getting worse… Each time I hold the blade, I lose myself a little more and it's getting harder to come back." He gently fisted his fingers in your hair and you could hear his breathing hitch. "This thing with Metatron… I might survive it. But I don't think I'm coming back from it. I don't want you to see—" Dean choked back a sob. "I don't want you to see me become something I'm not."

You held him tightly and tried to reassure him as you looked up into his green eyes. "That's why I'm going with you Dean. I'm going to help you get through this. You're going to make it. You're going to survive. You're staying with me."

Dean dropped to his knees then and you sank down with him. With tears in his eyes he voiced his deepest concern. "Y/N, I'm afraid of losing control again. It doesn't matter who gets in my way anymore during a hunt or a kill and afterwards… afterwards I'm still ready to go. I want to go after the closest thing and kill it too. What if that's you? Please, I don't want you to see me like that and I don't want to hurt you. The only reason I'm letting Sam come with me is that if I manage to kill Metatron, I'm going to need him to put me down." You felt tears coming but managed to hold them at bay Dean's grip tightened on you. "Please, please Y/N. I'm begging you. Please stay in the bunker."

Silence hung heavy between you for a moment. "I will stay, but you have to come back." You wrapped your arms around him almost desperately as if that alone could keep him from going. After a moment he gently pushed you away. He kissed you before silently leaving. You tried to take comfort in the fact he didn't say goodbye. You let it give you hope.

That was until Sam came home with Dean's body in his arms. You knew instantly that he wasn't just unconscious or injured, he was dead. The horror of it hit you instantly and you fought the urge to scream and throw up at the same time.

Sam didn't seem interested in talking and that was ok with you. You tried not to think about how the bunker suddenly seemed dark, cold, and empty. All the light had been sucked out of everything. You figured Sam was still around somewhere, drowning his sorrows. You just wanted to be with Dean as long as you could. You figured it wouldn't be long until it was time to burn his body. So you curled up beside him and stroked his hair and face until you eventually fell asleep.

Suddenly, there was movement. You felt the mattress move and bolted upright. Crowley was standing across the room and Dean… Dean was actually sitting on the edge of the bed!

"Dean! Oh my God, you're alive!" You wrapped your arms around him from behind. You looked up as he turned towards you with black eyes and gasped in shock. "Dean?"

"Sorry love. Dean and I were just leaving. We'll send you a postcard. Promise." Crowley wore a smug look.

"What? No. What did you do to him Crowley?!" Your anger threatened to get the best of you. You had to bite back the urge to call Sam down with the demon knife or an angel blade.

"I did nothing. The mark however… Well it doesn't like to let go so easily." He gestured to Dean's arm and the blade. "Let's go Dean."

"No! Please, wait!" You grabbed Dean's arm and felt yourself beginning to cry. "Please Dean. Please, I just lost you. I can't lose you again." Dean blinked and his eyes returned to their normal shade of green. "Dean…"

He turned his head towards Crowley. "She comes with us or no deal Crowley."

"Fine, I could care less Dean. We all need our toys now and again." He spared a glance at you.

"Y/N, write a note for Sam. We leave in five." Dean stood up and packed a duffle.

You didn't even think about staying. As much as this would hurt Sam, you knew he would want someone to be with Dean. So you wrote a hasty note and packed some essentials as fast as you could before following Dean and Crowley to the car.

NOW

You thought back to that night. If you'd been less desperate, you might have noticed how he didn't return your embrace. Dean never even looked back at you on the way to the car. You would've noted Crowley riding shotgun and how Dean drove without even looking in the rearview mirror.

You knew Dean was just as strong as the mark and you'd hoped that a piece of his humanity would hang on just like the mark had. That hope began to die in the first week when Dean started to exclusively stop at bars and skipped diners advertising "world famous pie." You didn't drink alcohol and were forced to live off of bar food.

Dean almost never spoke to you. He mainly talked to Crowley. The only time you two were together was in the cheap motel rooms they booked. Crowley insisted on his own room and you stayed with Dean. He would still have sex with you and share a bed, but it wasn't the same. There was none of the love or tenderness from before.

The thing worst thing he did was start leaving randomly. Dean would be in the room with you when you went to sleep. But then after a couple weeks, you'd wake up to an empty room with no note and no calls or texts. It made you panic more than once. You were paranoid that he would simply leave you on a good day.

On bad days, you were still having nightmares about his death. Waking up without him next to you only made things worse. The first few times you were convinced he must have died and barely rode out the panic attacks. You learned quickly to look for his bag as reassurance. You were pretty sure Dean was more likely to leave you than his bag at this point.

Once you woke up in a panic as Dean was leaving. Instead of staying and comforting you like he would've before, he said he would be back later and walked out the door with no further explanation.

You still went out with Crowley and Dean to the bars during that first month. Even though you didn't like Dean getting drunk, you thought his early attempts at karaoke were cute. They were similar enough to something Dean would do on a dare that you could fool yourself for a moment.

You stopped going out with them when Dean pulled up to a place called "Angel's". You could smell the strippers a mile away. They both looked up at you when you said you were going to walk back to the motel and turn in for the night.

Dean looked at you like you had two heads. "What's the matter Y/N?"

Just for a moment, you thought he might actually care. Before you could answer though, he made a crude joke to Crowley.

"Yeah, suit yourself Y/N. Don't wait up." Crowley looked back at you with a smile that withered your insides.

That's what brought you here. You thought it was fitting somehow, sitting alone in the darkness. And despite the growing depression you felt trying to work its way in, you tried to be the light in the dark for Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

The motel room was dark and quiet. Ever since Dean came back to life, you started watching him while he slept. You knew it may seem creepy, but watching the rise and fall of his chest reassured you that he was really alive. When Dean slept, there was no difference between the Dean you fell in love with and the man twisted by the mark. You watched him because you could barely sleep yourself now. And most of all, you watched him because of his nightmares.

Dean had always had nightmares, this wasn't anything new to you. Before, you would wake him up and reassure him. You held him and kept his fears and insecurities a secret after Dean started telling you what was in his nightmares. Now, most nights he still had nightmares. You took it as a sign that somewhere inside his humanity still refused to let go. Demons didn't dream or have nightmares. In general, demons were the nightmares.

Just like before, you woke him up every time you caught him in one. You held him and Dean actually seemed to take comfort in your embrace. He didn't fight it and allowed himself to relax in your arms. Sometimes he would fall back asleep. It was one of the few times things felt normal. Dean had stopped telling you what he dreamt about and you knew better than to ask. Even before the mark gripped him, you knew better than to press Dean about his insecurities.

You were lost in your thoughts when you noticed Dean shift in his sleep. His face contorted into a grimace.

You stroked his face. Waking Dean slowly and gently was always better than shaking him from a nightmare. "Dean. You're ok. It's only a dream." The soothing words seemed to have no effect as he began to thrash. You could tell this was a bad one and it was escalating quickly. You turned on the bedside lamp and gripped him firmly as you spoke to him. "Dean, wake up… Dean… Dean!"

Dean whimpered until he finally cried out your name in his sleep. He awoke suddenly and a hand reached out towards you. A force pushed you backwards and you felt a sharp pain as your head impacted with the wall and you crumpled to a heap on the floor.

When you looked up, Dean was upright in bed. His face was full of fear and confusion, but his eyes were black. He stared at you for a moment as you tried to find the words to bring him back and to make everything ok again. It was too late though. Your mask was slipping and he had seen your fear.

Dean slipped out of bed and walked towards you. You looked down and swallowed, not knowing what to expect. He knelt before you and lifted your chin. His eyes had returned to the beautiful shade of green that you loved so much. You were usually good at reading him, but not this time. His face was stoic, but you could see different emotions sweeping across his features like a storm. Dean opened his mouth to speak and there was a knock at the door.

Dean got up to answer and you felt the back of your head. There was blood and you noticed a small dent in the wall above you.

Crowley's voice registered as he entered the room. "Lover's quarrel?" He looked down at you with amusement.

Dean spoke before you could. "What did you want Crowley?"

"As you know, I enjoy a good roll in the hay as much as the next demon. But unfortunately my room is next door and I do need my beauty sleep."

"Fine, we'll keep it down. Anything else?" Dean wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"If I'm honest, you look like you could use a drink Dean. Would you like to join me?"

You looked at Dean and caught him glancing at you. "Yeah, sure Crowley. Just let me throw some fresh clothes on. I'll meet you there." Dean stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

You waited on Crowley to leave but instead he turned to you. "Y/N, remember what I said about toys? What do you suppose happens when toys break?" He didn't wait for a response and left you with that lingering thought.

You started to stand as Dean emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and walked towards the bed. "Suppose you know, I'm going out with Crowley. Get some sleep." He set a glass of water and some pills on the nightstand before walking out the door.

You weren't sure whether to feel crushed or touched. Dean had never lashed out at you before, not even on accident. The old Dean would be by your side stewing in guilt and self-loathing until you insisted that you were fine. On the other hand, this was the most concern he'd shown for you since you'd left the bunker together. You couldn't decide if this meant he was getting worse or better as you swallowed the pills and turned out the light.

You managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up with a splitting headache. It was late in the morning and Dean wasn't back yet. You weren't surprised when there were no calls or texts. You saw his bag still in the corner and told yourself he would be back as you stepped towards the bathroom.

Despite trying not to look, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your hair was usually wild, but this was something else entirely. Bags under your eyes stood out against your pale skin. Motels and bars didn't exactly lend themselves to sunlight very well. If you were completely honest with yourself, you looked exactly like how you felt.

You started running the shower and took two more pills in hopes that getting cleaned up and eating something would help. The water pressure was non-existent and left you longing for the bunker. It only got worse when the hot water ran out suddenly after about five minutes while you still had shampoo in your hair. You stepped out of the shower shivering and reached for a towel that seemed to be more like a glorified washcloth. Why was it that all the motels seemed to have ridiculously small towels?

You threw on a pair of jeans and a tank top before grabbing one of Dean's flannel shirts. It was something you had done since you and Dean started dating. You'd grabbed one of his shirts to cover up when you thought Sam was about to walk in on you and Dean together. When Sam simply walked past your door, you had both burst out laughing. Dean grabbed you and gathered you into his arms. He resumed kissing your neck and shoulders from behind. Dean made his way up your neck and whispered in your ear that he loved seeing you in his shirt and that it looked sexy on you.

You smiled at the memory before the growling of your stomach brought you back to reality. There was a diner a few blocks down the road that looked alright so you grabbed some cash, your phone, and opened the door. As you tried to leave, you bumped into a large man and apologized before trying to step around him.

"Sorry Y/N." You looked up in time to see his eyes turn black. "You're not supposed to leave without the boss or Winchester." He gave you a sick smile.

"I'm just going to the diner down the street. I'm hungry." You were also way too tired to put up with this guy.

"That's not my problem."

"How about I call Dean and you can tell him why you won't let his girlfriend get some food?" You knew you only had a 50/50 shot at getting Dean to answer the phone, but the demon didn't need to know that.

"Go ahead." The demon shrugged and you bit your lip as you dug out your phone.

You hit Dean's number on speed dial. With every ring your anxiety rose until you finally hit voicemail.

" _I told you to stop calling me, Sam." BEEP._

"Hey Dean, it's just me. One of Crowley's goons is outside of our room. He says I can't leave and I'm starving babe. Could you please do me a favor and call him off? I'll even pick you up a slice of pie from the diner. I love you." You doubted Dean would care about the pie but you wanted to show him that you were still thinking about him. You were still willing to do the little things for him that used to make him smile.

"I guess he must be busy." The demon chuckled and interrupted your thoughts.

You pursed your lips together. "He will call me back."

"Yeah. Sure Y/N." The demon leaned back against the wall near the door.

"I could just perform an exorcism you know."

The demon simply laughed at you. "Oh please. Spare me the theatrics." He leaned close to you. "Just in case you failed to notice, you're not with the Winchesters anymore. Dean may be here, but as long as he's riding with us, you're with Crowley. Now tell me, how well do you think any of those hunter tricks will go over? We tolerate you because you're the Winchester's plaything. But sooner or later, he will either get tired of you or you will break."

Sadness and anger crept in. You refused to let this demon see you cry. You refused to let him see that you were actually breaking little by little every day. You spoke to him with as much venom as you could before slamming the door. "He will call back and you will leave when he does if you have any fear of the first blade. Dean didn't care about demons before. What makes you think he would give a shit about killing you now?"

You flopped down on the bed still fighting tears. Your cell phone sat next to it as you stared at it, willing Dean to call back. After a few minutes, you turned on the TV in an attempt to drown out your own thoughts. You weren't sure last night, but now you were starting to think this was all the start of things getting a lot worse.

The TV was doing nothing for you. Instead, you went through your old texts and voicemails. It was like going back in time and reliving your relationship before you left the bunker. Partly because that's when the calls and texts stopped, as if he stayed dead. It was also partly because Dean didn't talk to you like that anymore. He didn't just text you to tell you he loved you anymore. He didn't call to ask if you wanted him to pick up your favorite snacks. He stopped sending you funny pictures to make you laugh when you were having a bad day.

The only texts and calls you'd received recently were from Sam and Cass. Dean didn't tell you not to answer them. Instead it seemed to be simply understood that there were only going to be two sides in this situation. You were either on Dean's side, or you weren't.

Castiel always seemed to call. The angel didn't like texting much. Cass's messages were your favorite out of the two. He would ask you to call him back with your location if you could. He asked you to watch out for Dean. But Castiel also asked you to take care of yourself. He asked how you were doing, if you were safe. You frowned when you noted that his messages progressively sounded wearier. It sounded like he was getting sick.

Sam's calls and texts were all mostly the same with varying degrees of desperation, anger, and sadness. He mainly asked where Dean was and for you to leave him any trail of breadcrumbs you could. He knew you were either still with Dean or dead. Sam had knew you enough to know that you would come to him for help or call if you lost Dean.

Your finger hovered over the 'call back' button for the hundredth time before you decided against it when you heard the door to the next room open and close. Crowley was back which meant Dean usually wasn't far behind. You went into the bathroom to clean up a little, you didn't want Dean to know you'd been crying. You weren't entirely sure if it was because you still didn't want him to feel guilty or because you couldn't stand to see him look at you as if he didn't care at all.

Whatever Crowley was doing, he was being loud about it and that only irritated you after his comments last night. You pounded on the wall you shared and shouted in an attempt to get him to quiet down. Of course it didn't work. Crowley never showed you any consideration, why start now? After a few minutes you looked decent enough and decided to step outside. Hopefully Crowley's goon would've found something better to do.

You were bitterly disappointed to see him still out there by the door. "You're seriously still here? You really have nothing better to do than sit outside and make sure I don't go out for a slice of pie?"

He sauntered towards you. "Orders. And yes, I have about a million other things I'd rather do than hang around this crappy motel. For instance, I'd rather be peeling the skin from your pretty little face or tearing out your tongue and feeding it to you. But instead, I am tasked with making sure you don't leave."

"And if I decide I want leave anyway? I'm sure you're under orders not to kill me. Dean won't be very happy if he comes back to me covered in bruises."

The demon licked his lips. "I've been given permission to be… creative." You took a step back from him and it was enough to give you a better view of the parking lot. Dean's car was back and parked around the corner which meant he couldn't be far.

"Keep your hands off of me. I'm calling Dean." You whipped out your phone and you were determined to get through to him. You hit voicemail the first time and hung up to try again. This would normally seem desperate, but the situation had gone too far.

You dialed again. As Crowley's door opened, you heard Dean's familiar ringtone coming from behind you. Your chest swelled with hope as you spun around smiling. "Dean!"

The next thing you saw nearly brought you to your knees. A blonde girl followed Dean out of Crowley's room and grabbed onto his arm smiling. It was like a punch to the gut and you fought to breathe, move, or just do anything other than stand there looking like an idiot.

"Hey Y/N. This is Lisa Marie. She works at the bar in town. We uh, met last night."

This chick seemed to be totally oblivious to what was going on as she reached out to shake your hand. "Nice to meet you Y/N. Dean didn't mention a sister."

"I… uh…" You didn't take her hand and tried to find something to say. "I just… Can I talk to you for a minute Dean?"

Dean told her to go on ahead. You didn't miss how he said he'd catch up with her later before walking into the room you shared.

"So what's up Y/N? You've been blowing up my phone."

You fought so hard against the anger, grief, sadness, and depression. This wasn't the Dean you knew, this was the mark. You told yourself this was when Dean's humanity needed you most and that he didn't need you yelling and crying. Not now. Not when it seemed so clear the mark was in control.

"D-demon. There's a demon outside the room. He won't let me leave."

"Yeah, we thought you could use some protection since you aren't joining us much anymore."

"Well, there's a couple problems with that. First, I'm hungry. He hasn't let me leave all day and I just want to get some grub at the diner. Second, Crowley chose a demon that would rather quote, 'tear my own tongue out and feed it to me' than protect me." You stood across the room with your arms folded across your chest.

Dean considered this for a moment before looking back at you. "Is there anything else, Y/N."

There was so much more you wanted to say. You continued to fight against the storm of emotions raging inside you. "I think Cass is sick. I just listened to a message and—"

"Cass is a big boy, I'm sure he can figure it out. He's not our problem anymore, Y/N." Dean clearly didn't want to hear about Castiel or Sam. He knew they were looking for him and he didn't want to be found.

He turned towards the door and motioned for the demon to come over. "Did you threaten Y/N?"

"I'm just following orders." The demon looked at Dean defiantly.

"Where in your orders does it say that it's ok to threaten her?" Dean's voice was low and dangerous.

"Crowley left some things up to… interpretation." The demon was trying to reason with Dean. You knew he was well past reasoning at this point.

Dean nodded and you watched him grasp the First Blade behind his back. "I see. Well interpret this." He stabbed the demon in the neck. "No one threatens her." Dean turned to his left and spoke to someone outside of the room. "You! You saw all of that?"

A woman cautiously approached Dean. "Y-yes."

"Good. Clean up the mess before someone calls the cops. You've got his job now." You figured the place must be crawling with Crowley's minions. Dean turned to look towards you. "And if she wants to go to the diner, let her. You can see it from here and we've got someone inside."

"Y-yes sir." The woman began to haul the body away.

"Don't worry about Lisa Marie. I told her not to get attached." With that Dean shut the door and left you alone. Again.


	3. Chapter 3 part 1

**BRIEF AN: This chapter will be published in two parts. The whole document came in at almost 6,000 words. Trigger warnings for mentions of suicide and self harm beyond this point.**

You sat on the bed stunned. Crowley was making excuses to treat you like a prisoner and Dean… you refused to think about Dean cheating on you. This wasn't like him at all. Dean had always been fiercely loyal to those he loved. It's the reason why he always felt hurt when someone lied to him or betrayed him. It's part of the reason why he was always so protective and possessive sometimes.

It didn't surprise you that Dean had killed that demon. He hated anything that remotely resembled a threat to you. Once, a guy had grabbed your ass in a gas station while you were waiting in line to pay. You thought Dean was picking out his own snacks. In moments, Dean had the jerk's arm behind his back and he was begging for mercy. The cashier threatened to call the police before Dean released him with some choice words and a punch to the face. You could tell the guy had a dislocated shoulder as Dean grabbed your hand and led you back to the Impala.

You knew then that reacted that way because he thought he'd failed to protect you in the first place and because he couldn't stand a stranger thinking it was ok to touch you like that. He loved you and wanted to do the impossible, he wanted to protect you from the world as much as he could. You knew Dean would never tell you how to live your life or keep you from hunting with him. He could be overly protective, but never controlling. Dean had respected your choices in the past.

Now, you wondered if Dean was seeing you as a person or as a possession. Did he kill the demon because it had threatened you and practically held you prisoner? Or did he kill the demon because it threatened something that was his? Were you really just his plaything?

You felt depression and anxiety beginning to suffocate you and your emotions ran wild. You wanted to scream, cry, and tear the room apart. Part of you just felt like laying down and sleeping until Dean and Crowley decided to move on just to escape reality. The rational part of your brain told you that you should at least go to the diner and get some food. Then there was the anxiety. It felt like there was a bomb in your chest and if you moved or did anything, you would die.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting on the bed with silent tears streaming down your face, rationality won out. Grabbing your phone and some cash, you left for the diner. The new demon outside merely glared at you and nodded when you mentioned heading for food.

It was one of those places that served breakfast all day. You couldn't remember the last time you actually had breakfast food for breakfast instead of leftovers and gas station snacks. You ordered some scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. It wasn't that the food was bad, it was actually really good for diner food. Your appetite had disappeared and you found yourself simply picking at your food and moving it around your plate. The waitress was nice though and didn't say anything about all of the food you didn't eat. Instead she just smiled at you and offered you a slice of chocolate cake to go.

She gently placed a Styrofoam box on the table and touched your hand. "I don't know what's goin' on, but we all have rough days. This is on the house for later. Hopefully your problem isn't so big a little chocolate can't fix it." Her eyes were full of sympathy and care. No one had looked at you like that since before Dean went to kill Metatron, since before Dean died.

"Could I—" You tried to swallow back tears. "Could I get a slice of apple pie for my boyfriend?" It was useless. This stranger and her random kindness had reduced you to a crying mess in the middle of the restaurant. You looked at her nametag. Cathy, her name was Cathy.

"Oh honey…" She knelt down next to you and gathered you into a hug. "Of course you can." Cathy stood and looked around. "But first, come with me."

You let her lead you. She stopped when another waitress walked by. "I'm taking my fifteen. I don't have any other tables right now. Cover me?"

"Sure." The other waitress kept walking with a fresh pot of coffee.

Cathy led you through a set of doors and you realized you were in the ladies room. She let you rest against a wall while she wordlessly gathered some paper towels. She stuffed some dry ones in her apron and ran water over the rest.

"Look at me." Her voice was soft and calming. She ran a cool damp towel over gently over your face and placed another one on the back of your neck. "Let's get you cleaned up. What's your name?"

Cathy looked like she was only a couple years older than you. You wondered if this was what it was like to have an older sister. "Y/N. I'm guessing you're Cathy." You glanced at her name badge.

Cathy started laughing. "Actually, my name is Alicia. I lost my name tag yesterday. We get written up if we show up without a badge so I'm borrowing one." Alicia brushed some of the hair away from your face and handed you some dry paper towels. "Here."

"And they don't notice you're wearing someone else's tag?" The distraction and small talk was nice.

"They notice if I show up late, leave early, get a customer complaint, or if my shirt isn't two sizes too small. Beyond that, details escape the managers." Alicia had pulled out a hairbrush from her purse. "I promise I don't have cooties, I can brush your hair if you want."

You considered the offer and nodded your head. "Thanks… why are you being so nice to me? I'm just a stranger, a nobody."

"I'm not gonna say you look like crap Y/N. Instead I'm going to tell you a story." Alicia fished out a rubber band and began and began braiding a strand of hair. "I have an older sister. Your eyes are just like hers… Anyway, I went over to her apartment one night for our movie night, Mystery Science Theater 3000." Alicia chuckled. "She laughed when she was supposed to laugh, but didn't participate in our usual running commentary. She was just really quiet." Alicia paused and sighed. "I was a lot younger, I'd just started college. I got pissy because I thought she was mad at me and giving me the cold shoulder for no reason so we got into a fight. I really made sure to yell at her. I told her that I had a horrible time and that I would've rather gone out with my college friends instead of keeping up some stupid tradition we had." She finished the braid and continued to brush your hair. "She just looked at me and said 'Alright.' I was so angry and immature… So I left and met up with some douchebag that thought he was gonna get laid." Alicia accidentally hit the spot where your head had hit the wall last night and you hissed. "Sorry. Anyway, I felt terrible the next day so I decided to head her place with some of her favorite snacks and an apology." She stopped brushing your hair and sighed. "I found her hanging in her closet. It was too late to save her. I tried, but she was gone."

Alicia gently turned you around and rested her hands on your shoulders. "I will never forget the look in her eyes when she said 'Alright'." She stared into your eyes with sadness. "Your eyes are just like hers were that night."

You stood there shocked. "I-I'm not, I wasn't—"

Alicia smiled. "Of course not. If you were, that chocolate cake would go to waste. Before we get that slice of pie for your boyfriend, is there anything you want to tell me about him? Or maybe just about anything else?" Her fingers lightly brushed the back of your head.

You bit your lip. You wanted to talk to someone, anyone so badly. But what could you possibly tell her?

"I know, it's complicated. Take your time." She noticed your hesitation.

You let out a tired sigh. "My boyfriend… He's amazing. He loves me and does his best to protect me. It's just that right now, he's working through some… issues." You struggled with how to phrase things without the supernatural element. "It's not quite PTSD, but he's been… haunted and not himself. He left his brother and his best friend—we were his support system—to start hanging out with this other guy. His new friend makes him worse. I'm all he has left."

"It sounds like you should call his brother and friend. I'm sure they're worried and would come to help."

You furrowed your brows. This wasn't anything you hadn't already considered. "If I call them, we will leave. He'd probably be out of town before they could get here. I'm the only one that would call them so he'd probably leave me behind as well. It's better that someone is with him."

"Better for who?" Alicia wiped away a tear you didn't realize you'd let slip. "It seems to me you have three choices. You can stay with him and see how that works out, you can call his friend and brother and hope that they get here, or you could call them and if he leaves let him go." Alicia opened the door and led you back to your booth. She returned with another box and a piece of paper. "If you need anything, call me."

You reached for some cash to pay but she insisted that this was all on her and not to worry about it. You placed a fifty dollar bill on the table before grabbing the boxes and heading for the door. It was starting to get dark out and you could see the demon still lurking near your room. You remembered Dean saying something about having a demon at the diner. Your instincts told you it wasn't Alicia. No demon could be that kind or come up with that kind of a story. Plus it was too obvious for Crowley to have a demon possess your waitress, it wasn't his style. It was more likely to be a regular customer, manager, or kitchen staff.

The demon glared at you as you opened the door. You set the desserts down on the small table in your room and turned on the lights. Pulling out your phone, you decided to call Dean to try to get him to come back early tonight. You didn't have any beer, but you could offer him pie and sex. It stung that you had to tempt him and seduce him to come back to you.

The phone rang a couple times before Dean finally picked up. "Yeah?"

"Hey Dean. I just got back from the diner. The food was amazing, and they had this fresh apple pie… I picked you up a slice if you want to head back. I'm sure we could come up with something fun to do after…" You kept your tone happy and hopeful.

Dean was obviously in another noisy bar and was fighting against the background noise. "Oh yeah? Demon didn't give you any trouble then." The noise grew fainter and you could tell he was at least making an effort to talk to you in an area where he could hear you. "Listen, uh—"

"Deeeaannnn!" There was a female voice in the background giggling. "We're doing body shots, you're gonna miss all the fun! Come on!"

You pursed your lips and wondered why you felt so hurt and surprised. "You're going to be 'busy' again tonight, aren't you?" You couldn't keep the disappointment out of your voice.

"Yeah. Yeah actually. I'll be back late so don't wait up."

You sighed. "Be safe Dean. I love you." After a moment of silence, you realized that he'd ended the call.

Fuck this shit. You paced the room, feeling like a caged animal. The room seemed to be getting smaller and running out of oxygen. You desperately needed an outlet for the all of the emotions you'd been hiding.

First, you tore the covers and pillows from the bed and knocked over a nightstand. The lamp fell with it, breaking the only light in the room. One of the wooden chairs in the small room was your next target. It was so cheap and flimsy that it fell apart without much force. You kicked at the wall you shared with Crowley as you made your way towards the bathroom. You looked for something else to destroy and caught your reflection in the mirror.

You were a mess again. Alicia's braid held, but your hair was once again wild and your face was red and puffy. Rage was starting to give way to hopelessness as sobs threatened to break free. You turned on the shower in hopes that the sound of running water would soothe you and mask the pathetic sound of you sobbing on the bathroom floor. No wonder Dean would rather party with Crowley and random girls. Why would he want to spend any time with some weepy, needy girl? That's when you noticed your favorite pocket knife on the counter.

AT THE BAR

Candi, or was it Bambi… Had just reminded Dean of the fun still awaiting him inside. He told her he would be back in a minute. You sounded like you would be alright on your own for the rest of the evening. The kill from earlier still had Dean running on a high. That particular minion had always cramped his style.

Dean turned around to head back into the bar only to be greeted by a couple demons.

"Hello Dean."

"You aren't worthy of our king's company." The second demon spat and they were suddenly both lunging at him.

Dean threw the first one to the ground and kicked the second one back. "Looks like we've got a real party now." He pulled out the first blade and smiled. They hardly posed a challenge to Dean and frankly, he was slightly disappointed when they both went down after a couple minutes. He casually stabbed at one and sauntered over to the remaining demon on the ground. "Is this really the best you've got?"

The demon spat blood in his face and smiled. "You aren't powerful, Winchester. You're broken. You're nothing but a loose cannon, a wild dog. Crowley likes dogs, but he hates loose ends. Everyone can see your frayed edges, it's only a matter of time until Crowley sees it too."

Dean pressed the blade to the demon's neck. "You might be right, you might be wrong. But the one thing I know is that you're not going to be around to find out." With that he cut the demon's throat and watched it die.

Dean hadn't felt this satisfied in weeks. Even though they were only minions and low level demons, three kills in one day was a damn good day. The only downside was that he was now covered in blood. Going back into the bar was no longer an option, so he called Crowley.

"You're missing quite the party in here Dean. Candi and Bambi are really… Let's just say I can imagine a lot and these two haven't failed to impress me." Crowley chuckled.

Dean suddenly remembered they were twins. He just thought he'd been seeing double. "Oh yeah… Well, I bumped into a few of your fanboys. They weren't so happy about our little road trip I'm guessing. I'm gonna head back to the motel to wash up. Enjoy the girls without me." He ended the call and shut the door to the Impala.

 **Part 2 of this chapter will be up shortly. Thank you to everyone that has favorited/followed/reviewed this story.**


	4. Chapter 3 part 2

**Part 2 of Chapter 3**

You folded the knife, satisfied with the fresh cuts on your hip. It had been years since you last cut yourself. Dean was the only one in your life that knew. He found out one night after a werewolf hunt. It was before you and Dean were dating.

THEN

The plan was for you and Sam to circle around to one side of the cabin that you had tracked the werewolf to and Dean would take the other side. You had caught the werewolf in your sights before it noticed you. You motioned to Sam to get his attention in case you missed. It hadn't taken just any victims, this werewolf liked kids. You thought about the five victims that you knew about as you pulled the trigger. There was no sympathy for this monster, not even from Sam—the poster boy for grey areas and mercy. You didn't miss and watched your target drop before turning to Sam with a smile.

Sam returned your smile and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "Nice shot, Y/N." And it really was a great shot from this distance. Dean and Sam were impressed with your long range shooting skills. It meant that they worried about you a little less on hunts and it had also saved them a few times when you were covering them from behind.

Suddenly, Sam's face melted from pride and relief to horror. "Y/N! Watch out!" He grabbed your other shoulder and threw you aside. Sam was screaming and you pushed yourself up as fast as you could to help. You'd dropped the gun when Sam tossed you and it was lost in the surrounding leaves. Grabbing your silver knife, you cursed yourself. It was a stupid mistake, you had assumed it was just one werewolf instead of a couple. Sam was getting mauled and you had no clear shot to its heart. Instead, you just said a prayer before you jumped on its back and started stabbing.

It yelped and threw you off like you were nothing. Sam wasn't moving and all of the creature's rage was directed at you as it lunged at you. It dug its claws into you cruelly and you cried out for Dean repeatedly. You hoped he could hear you shout at this distance or would pick up on the fact neither you nor Sam had met up with him yet. He had to have heard the gunshot, you were sure about that much. You struggled to defend yourself and reach its heart with your knife at the same time as it slashed and snapped at you. It was a lot easier as a concept in your head than it was in reality. "DEAN!"

"HEY!" You heard his voice a moment later. Dean caught the werewolf's attention not at all too soon. "Get the hell off of her!" It came out as a low, threatening snarl before he emptied a clip into the thing's chest. Dean ran over to you and began checking you over.

"Just scratches. M'fine." You gritted your teeth and groaned as you sat up. "Sam..."

Dean followed your gaze and rushed over to his brother. "Sammy?" Dean tried to get him to respond as you painfully limped over with the help of a fallen branch. "No bites, but he's losing blood…" You saw Dean slip on the mask he wore when he was scared. His eyes darted back and forth as he was trying to form a plan. "Ok, um…"

"I can walk. Get him into the cabin, hopefully there's a first aid kit. I'll start fixing him up while you get the car." It was odd. Your thoughts were never clearer than when Dean or Sam were in danger. In the back of your mind, you knew this would become one more nightmare. You would panic and cry about it later in secret. That was the price you paid for these moments of calm, cool rationality in the midst of danger.

Dean did as you said. You'd managed to do enough triage in the cabin and the back of the impala to get Sam back to the bunker where Dean and Cass could take care of the rest. Dean nodded when you said you were going to get cleaned up before he took care of any stitches or bandaging.

You saw your reflection in the mirror and noted that you were covered in slightly less blood than Carrie. You were pretty sure most of it belonged to Sam and the werewolf. Removing your clothing was proving to be difficult and agonizing. Between the pain and your trembling fingers, you decided just to cut it all off before stepping into the shower.

It felt good to get the crusted blood off of your skin and out of your hair. You frowned when you noticed the water never quite ran clear. The werewolf had mostly focused on your arms while you defended yourself and it had used your right leg as a scratching post. The water stung at your back as well and you wondered when the damn thing had tried to rip out your spine in the struggle.

You gingerly walked to your room in a towel, your clothes were trash now. Pain meds and sleep sounded amazing right now. You pulled on some pajama shorts and a tank top you didn't mind ruining with blood and ointments. Dean knocked on your door as you were on the edge of sleep. "Dean?" You groaned and moved sluggishly.

"Hey… Sam's out, but he's gonna be fine." He knew what your first question would be. He sat on the bed with a first aid kit next to you. "Geez, Y/N… It really did a number on you too…" His eyes swept over your body.

You chuckled. "I don't wanna die without any scars. Besides…" You sucked in a breath as you sat on the edge of the bed. "Sammy got it worse. I'd be dead if he didn't push me out of the way." Dean began working on your arms skillfully. "Sorry Dean. I should've double checked. I thought there was just one. And I shouldn't have let my guard down so it could get the jump on us."

Dean paused and met your eyes for a moment. "Hey, this isn't just on you. Sammy and I made the same mistakes. You're both fine and that's what matters." He finished bandaging your arms quickly and began working on your leg. "Your shin should be ok." Dean reached for a needle and thread. "But your thigh is pretty bad."

You were afraid you'd need stitches, even though you had pretty much figured it out already. "Let's just get this over with. Turn around." The claw marks worked their way up your thigh and onto your hip. Nudity during a patch up wasn't a new thing, but there was an unspoken policy about preserving dignity when it was an option. You exchanged the shorts for a pair of normally impractical underwear that tied into a bow on the sides for... easy access… Not that you'd been on a date recently. Hunting with the Winchesters had taken over your life now. You used the blanket to cover as much as you could and told Dean he could turn back around.

Dean started just above your knee and worked his way up. He knew that even though you pretended to be tough, you hated stitches. So he spoke to you softly to distract you while you closed your eyes and focused on keeping still. If you had a happy place, you supposed this would be when you went there. "I caught a glimpse of the werewolf in the cabin. I doubt Sammy could've made that shot. We would've been screwed if we had to deal with two at once." You let out a hiss of pain as your focus slipped into the land of 'what if.' "You're doing great Y/N. I'm almost done…" Dean stopped and you felt his fingers graze your hip. "Y/N…"

"Done?"

"Uh… not quite." Dean quietly finished stitching you up. After a few moments he let you know he was done and you opened your eyes. His green eyes felt like they were burning through you. "Y/N… these aren't from a werewolf…" His gaze traveled down to your hip. The delicate cuts and scars from your knife were very different that the jagged claw marks the werewolf had left you as a gift. Shit.

You threw the blanket over your right leg and scooted away from him. "It's nothing. I'm fine." The sudden movement had a new wave of pain washing over you. You expected just about anything other than what happened next.

Dean sat quietly for a moment before speaking softly. "No, you're not." You felt his weight shift on the bed and his arms wrapped around you. "You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to. Hell, there are about a thousand reasons why with this job." Dean lifted your chin to meet his eyes. His face was inches from your's. "But it needs to stop." His eyes still held the fire they did before but they were full of sadness too. "I—you're... important to me Y/N." He swallowed. "Next time, talk to me instead of picking up a knife. Ok?" He rubbed your shoulder and waited for an answer.

Tears were threatening to fall. He saw this dark part of you that you'd kept hidden so well. Dean didn't judge you, he didn't lecture you and threaten to tell Sam and Cass. Instead he held you and gave you an option to trust him. You nodded in a silent agreement. This was the night things had begun to shift between the two of you.

You trusted him more afterwards and it was only a couple days until you found yourself walking to his room in the middle of the night. It was almost an unconscious move. You knew it was a matter of time until the werewolf hunt took its toll. Panic, fear, and darkness threatened to take over until you remembered Dean. It was dark and everyone was asleep in the bunker as you made your way to his room. He didn't stir as you stood over him. Your voice broke as you softly said his name and he was instantly alert.

Dean was instantly upright and turned on the light beside his bed. "Y/N…?" He took a moment to assess the situation. Dean automatically checked for danger and then moved to check you over. "What the… Y/N!" Something clattered across the floor and you were in his arms in an instant. Over his shoulder you noticed your knife on the floor. You didn't realize that you'd still had it in your hands.

Dean held you and eased you down onto the bed. Everything was hitting you at once in full force now. You could barely breathe and trembled as panic set in. The silent tears turned into sobs and you wished desperately for release or a distraction. You would do anything to kill the onslaught that was coming.

He shifted you and held you from behind. You felt the rise and fall of his chest as well as a low vibration and you knew he was saying something you couldn't hear over the roar in your ears. Dean ran a hand over your head and through your hair in a gentle, calming manner. After a few minutes his voice came back into focus.

"…Out. With me, ok? Breathe in… and out." His voice was low and controlled as he tried to ground you and bring you back. "Come on, Y/N. You've got this. You're ok, I've got you."

Dean continued to help you breathe. You struggled to match his breathing and he noticed. "That's it, Y/N. Now keep breathing with me. Focus on me." After what felt like an eternity, your breathing evened out and you were calm enough that Dean went to get you a glass of water.

You gratefully took it with shaking hands. "Slowly, Y/N." Dean watched you carefully and gave you a moment before you handed him the glass. "Do you want to talk about it?" He watched as your eyes glazed for a moment and you were about ready to relive whatever fresh horror your mind had conjured. He gripped your arms tightly to ground you. "It's ok Y/N. You don't have to tell me. It's ok. It's over."

You nodded you head shakily and moved to get up. You were increasingly aware of how unhinged you'd come in front of Dean and the idea mortified you. He stood and put a firm hand on your shoulder. "You're not going anywhere. I'll sleep… I don't know, I'll sleep in the chair. But I'm not going to leave you alone."

"I-" You cleared your throat after a moment. Your voice was reduced to a whisper. "I don't mind sharing the bed." You trusted Dean with your life and your secrets. You doubted he would ever take advantage of you, even if he was interested.

You were awake before Dean the next morning and all you could think about was a shower, breakfast, and something for a headache. You were so focused on ninja-ing yourself out of Dean's room without waking him up that you didn't see Sam walking gingerly towards you in the hallway.

He was a mess of cuts and bruises, but it was good to see him up and walking around. Sam saw you and smiled from ear to ear with an attempt at a chuckle before pain cut through.

"What?" You looked at him, puzzled.

His eyes flicked to Dean's door. "You two, huh?"

You gave Sam a shocked look as you struggled to find words to explain the situation. It was bad enough that Dean knew, you didn't want Sam to know how weak you were. "Well, Sam, it's… I don't know—" You felt an arm wrap around your waist and Dean drew you close.

"Mornin' babe." You were shocked when Dean quickly kissed you on the cheek and smiled. "What do you want for breakfast Sam?" He held you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sam focused his attentions on Dean and you were glad to be out of the spotlight. "About time." He smiled at Dean. "Pancakes sound good right now. I think I can keep down a few." Sam barely ate during the last few days. The painkillers made him nauseous. Unfortunately, the less he ate, the sicker he felt.

"Pancakes coming right up." Dean grinned. He had started teaching himself how to cook more. It seemed to come naturally to him, probably because he loved food so much. You watched Sam head towards the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. You realized Dean was still holding onto you and felt anxiety begin to grip at your chest as you turned to look at him.

Dean backed away and gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm pretty sure you didn't want to spill your guts to Sammy… We'll talk about this later, after pancakes ok?"

You thought about it briefly and nodded.

"Good." Dean walked towards the kitchen and left you with your thoughts. The words 'about time' and Sam's expression stuck in your head.

NOW

You stood as you heard the familiar sound of the impala's engine. Dean walked into the room and took in the devastation for a moment and turned towards you. The bathroom light illuminated his face and you held in your shock at his appearance. You were used to seeing him covered in blood—whether it was his or someone else's. But you'd noticed his eyes had started to turn black more and more lately. When you brought it to his attention, he would blink and his eyes would return to normal.

This time he simply shrugged and walked towards you, unchanging. "Did anyone attack you?"

"N-no." You unconsciously took a step backwards.

Dean's posture relaxed slightly as he started to peel off his bloody clothes. "I need a shower. Crowley won't pay for the damages, so try and fix the room a little." You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

It wasn't like you tore apart the room for attention, but part of you hoped Dean would care. "Yeah, sure Dean." He barely moved as you tried to squeeze out of the small bathroom.

You managed to straighten up the room enough to make it a livable space again. There wasn't much you could do for the lamp or broken chair. The bathroom door was left open because you needed the light. Dean emerged after half an hour clad in a towel.

There wasn't a mark on him. You let out a sigh of relief that at least he wasn't injured this time. Even in the darkness, you could see his eyes were still black pools. He walked towards you with confidence and you could tell he was still high from a kill.

"Dean…" You were frozen where you stood. He grabbed you and kissed you roughly, full of lust.

About a million thoughts were racing through your mind as he started to undress you. You thought about denying him and pushing him away, you weren't up for sex right now and you were still mad about Lisa Marie. Then you thought about just getting a chance to be close to Dean. He only let his guard down during sleep and when you were having sex anymore. You'd promised yourself you would never miss a chance to try to get through to him. Any missed chance to save him or potentially reason with him would haunt you forever, so you decided to let it happen.

You were on the bed and his hands were all over you as if he couldn't get enough. Dean's fingers brushed over the fresh cuts on your hip and you hissed in pain. He didn't seem to notice, or if he did he didn't care. This really wasn't him at all. You had to try to get him back as soon as you could.

"We should go off on our own babe… Off the grid. We could pick a direction and just fucking drive." Dean had mentioned the idea before, an adventure without all the death. He continued to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulders as you spoke. "It'd be like we said, the Grand Canyon, beaches, Yosemite, and the northern lights…" You nibbled at his ear playfully and tasted his skin.

"The bucket list…" Dean hummed in pleasure. "There's no point anymore, it's not like I can die." He began placing kisses just below your ribs and began to tease your nipples causing you to writhe in his grasp.

The point of the bucket list wasn't just to see something before you both died, it was about sharing things together. You brought his head to yours and kissed him while you rooted around in your brain for something else… You tried to flip him and get on top, Dean usually liked letting you take charge when you were in the mood. It was probably because people usually relied on him so much for everything else, it helped him let go.

This time he didn't budge. You found yourself briefly being held down by a force other than his hands before being released. "Not tonight, Y/N." His voice was like a low growl that would have turned you on more under normal circumstances. Instead, it caused you to briefly panic. The possessiveness, use of powers, and his eyes made this feel wrong. You briefly wondered if this is what Dean would be like without a soul.

Swallowing down your terror, you tried one last thing. "Let me see your eyes Dean." You gently whispered in his ear. His eyes remained black and you stroked the side of his face smiling. "No… _your_ eyes babe."

Dean smiled in return. "These are my eyes Y/N."

 _Shit._

 **Reviews are love and will make me better. This is the first time I've tried to write anything close to a sex scene.**


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Sorry for the late update. Thanks for being patient with me. I really agonized over how to do this chapter. Special thanks to Peddlergirl for helping me out with this one. If you haven't read her work, it's really something special. Especially Combustible.**

The last few months were wearing on you. You'd been feeling the buildup of fear and panic coming, it only began to manifest in the last few days because you couldn't hold everything in anymore. Your sanity was like a rubber band that had been stretched out across time. It wouldn't be long before the rubber band snapped and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You could only try to make sure Dean, Sam, and Cass would be ok when it did.

You sat on the edge of the bed nervously. Dean didn't stir, he was sleeping soundly for once. Usually that would make you happy, but last night left you terrified for him. You would rather help him through nightmares every night than see his soul become so dark and twisted. This had to end and you intended to put a stop to it today.

You were going to need all of the strength you could get. The shower was as shitty as ever, but it helped to get cleaned up. Dean was getting out of bed as you went to grab some clothes and you plastered a smile on your face. "Morning Dean."

Dean merely grunted in response and began going through his morning routine.

"I don't know what you have planned today, but it's been a while since we've had breakfast together. We could go to that diner and get some pancakes, or whatever you want." You fixed your hair and waited for a response. Honestly, you'd expected him to refuse you and were surprised when he said sure and turned on the shower.

That didn't leave much time for you to get your plan rolling. You were sure Alicia was safe and that she wouldn't hesitate to help you. You just prayed to God that she would be working. There was a pad of motel stationary and a pen next to the phone. You hastily scrawled out a note.

 _Alicia, do not let anyone else read or see this note. Lives are at stake. My boyfriend and I are in serious trouble. We need help. He won't get help himself and if I ask for help… I'll get found out and bad things will happen._ _Do not_ _get the police involved. I need you to call two numbers instead from a phone no one can trace to you. Read the following message exactly to whoever answers or on the voicemail._

 _Sam and Cass, this is a message from Y/N. Dean's with me. We're staying in room 142 at the Blue Ridge Motel. Provo, Utah is a super funky town, you should hurry and come check it out._

 _(316) 555-8902_

 _(605) 555-2391_

That would have to do, but you figured the shorter the note was, the better. All of the essential information for Sam and Cass to find you was in there. You'd debated the funky town add on, but seeing as how a demon was constantly around it was better for them to be prepared. You folded the paper neatly and slipped it into your pocket just as Dean turned off the water. Within ten minutes you were on your way to the diner.

Dean walked next to you without sparing a sideways glance. You mustered your courage and tried to not let fear radiate off of you. _Be the light. You have to be strong, be his light right now._ Everything depended on you pulling this off. Dean entered the diner and plopped down into a nearby booth. Your eyes swept the restaurant for any sign of Alicia. She emerged from the back and your heart sank as you realized she was serving another section.

Time to think on your feet. You tapped Dean on the shoulder. "Hey Babe, the waitress from last night is here. She's the one that gave us free desserts. I'm gonna go say thanks quick since we're not in her section. I'll be right back."

"Sure, Y/N. Whatever." For once you were glad Dean didn't care.

You made your way towards Alicia before calling out her name with a smile. Alicia returned the smile. "Good morning! You look a little better."

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thanks for last night." You went in for a hug and quickly whispered in her ear. "Don't panic, keep smiling. I'm slipping you a note. Don't let anyone see it or you'll be in danger too. I need help." You pulled away and maintained your façade. "Anyways, thanks for everything."

"S-sure... No problem." Alicia managed to be convincing enough and you walked towards the booth. God never really listened to you, but you prayed anyway.

"Anything jumping out at you?" You raised an eyebrow at Dean as you slid into the booth. Dean had been looking the menu over for a few minutes already. Maybe he'd actually eat some real food today. He shrugged and tossed the menu onto the table as our waiter stopped by.

"What can I get for you?" He seemed especially disinterested in taking our order and only made eye contact with Dean.

"Yeah, uh. Two of whatever she wants." Dean gestured to you.

"We'll have the pancakes with a side of bacon and orange juice—coffee for him." You looked up at Dean with a smile. Bacon usually put him in just as good of a mood as pie.

You'd once tried to find out if there was a way to create bacon pie in a cooking experiment gone terribly, terribly wrong. You, Sam, and Dean had actually tasted it before agreeing to never speak of it again. Castiel was no longer human at the time and merely looked puzzled at the food. Everything tasted like 'molecules' to him.

Dean didn't return your smile. He sat and drummed his fingers while looking thoroughly bored. You resolved to enjoy this small bit of peace for as long as you could make it last. All hell would be breaking loose once Sam and Castiel got your message. You reached towards Dean to take his hand and attempted small talk. "What are you planning on today?" You had a good idea what his answer would be.

Dean just looked at your hand blankly. "I'll probably meet up with Crowley. He said he wanted to talk to me about some stuff yesterday. After that, I don't know. Maybe I'll hustle some pool or go to Teasers."

You bristled at the mention of Crowley and the local strip club and pulled your hand back. "Did Crowley mention what he wanted to talk about?"

"He's probably going to ask me for a favor or to do something. I can tell he's been building himself up to it during the last few days." Dean let out a breath and examined his nails.

 _That can't be good…_ "It must be something pretty big." You looked out the window absentmindedly.

Dean just shrugged. "He's really not that bad, Y/N."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "Dean, what could Crowley possibly want from you that he doesn't already have?"

Dean met your gaze with a hard look. Crowley had Dean bromancing with him 24/7. You knew Dean would kill for Crowley if it suited Dean's wishes… And Dean really enjoyed killing things now. There was only one thing Crowley could ask for that Dean would feel mildly conflicted about. Crowley wanted you out of the picture. It was crystal clear from day one. He was going to ask Dean to either kill you or leave you.

As you sat in the booth and looked into Dean's eyes, you realized that he'd come to the same conclusion. The only question was what his decision would be. You hoped that Dean would choose you and tell Crowley to fuck off, but you weren't so sure that would happen. There was a distance that he'd put between the two of you that had never been there before. When Dean first suggested that you start a relationship, you never thought that you'd end up in this position, not in a million years. You'd always imagined that you and Dean would be together up until the end. It would take a bullet or a blade to separate the two of you. Even then, you doubted that would last long…

THEN

Your mind drifted back to the bunker and the scent of Dean's cooking. The anxiety you felt as you waited to speak to him seemed so silly now. The pancakes were heavenly and were almost enough to distract you from the conversation that was coming as soon as Sam left to get some more rest. It was one of those rare moments where everyone seemed to be so happy and at peace. The guys were laughing and joking with you and each other. You couldn't remember any of the conversation to save your life. Instead you were focused on every look, every smile Dean gave you. His eyes were full of joy, kindness, and something else you couldn't place.

Sam eventually excused himself. You were sure he'd either be reading in his room or watching Netflix depending on how he felt at the moment. It was reassuring to see him healing so well after the werewolf hunt. Dean gathered the plates while you picked up the glasses and silverware. You set them in the sink and started running the water. Dean helped you silently and there was no more stalling after that.

"Y/N." His voice was gentle and you turned to face him. You didn't know what to say or what was coming next. "Maybe—maybe we should sit." Dean pulled a chair out for you and sat down across the table. He sighed and you could tell he was searching for what to say as much as you were.

"So… Sam's going to keep thinking we're a thing if we don't figure something out soon." You kept your gaze fixed on your hands. Telling Sam about everything was the last thing you wanted to do, but what else was there?

"Is that such a bad thing…?" Dean's response shocked you. You jerked your head up to meet his eyes. You were sure he would crack up soon, but instead he remained completely serious.

"Dean—I…" You struggled to find the appropriate response.

Dean reached across the table and took your hand in his. "Well, I'm pretty sure you don't want to tell Sam about… you know… You would've kept it from me too." His eyes flicked down for a moment nervously.

"I know—I know it's pathetic, Dean. I don't want anyone to know." The acknowledgement of your secret and weakness reduced your voice to a whisper.

"Hey, look at me." Dean's voice was commanding and gentle. He refused to continue until you made eye contact. "You are _not_ pathetic. That's the last word I'd use to describe you, Y/N." His thumb rubbed in comforting circles against your skin. He looked conflicted for a moment.

"Dean…?" There were times you were good at reading him. Other times you wished that you could just get inside of his head.

"When I was stitching you up, I got a pretty good look… Some were fresher than others. I—" Dean's voice caught in his throat for a moment. "I saw the scars. How long…?" His eyes were searching your face for answers to all the questions he was holding back. Dean knew better than to press you too much. He knew you'd had a horrible life before, but none of the details. Even Sam had learned that the topic of your past was off limits.

"Years. Before I met you." The short, quiet answer was all that he was going to pull from you. You'd rather tell Sam the truth about last night than talk about your life right now.

Dean nodded stiffly in understanding as he let out a breath. "Y/N… I'm not very good at this."

You gave Dean a puzzled look. Not very good? He'd handled the situation a million times better than what you had expected.

He continued to speak after a moment. "I can't promise to always keep you safe, but you already know that." Dean's eyes were suddenly fierce. "Here's what I can promise you, Y/N. I can keep your secrets for as long as you want. I'd only tell Sam or Cass if I felt like you were in any trouble or danger that I couldn't help you with."

You nodded your head. That sounded reasonable enough and you were sure Dean would do everything he could for you. He'd risked his life for you during hunts several times already, he deserved this amount of your trust.

"I can promise that I will always be there for you. As long as I have air in my lungs, I'll be there for you. I can promise that I'll be honest with you. I promise that I will never betray you or hurt you, Y/N." Dean's voice was gentle and drew you in. He closed his eyes, lifted your fingertips to his lips and kissed them softly.

You could feel your heart beating faster in your chest and you fought to hold in a gasp. The gesture was so loving, so gentle… You were sure that there had been nothing like that moment before in your entire life.

He opened his eyes and rested your hand back on the table without releasing it. "Y/N… From the first moment we met, you've been the embodiment of fierceness. I look into your eyes and you're like… you're like a wild a beautiful thing. You're smart, sensitive, and goddamn hilarious." Dean smiled.

"I've looked at you every day since you started staying here and every day I'm tempted to tell you how you make me feel. I'm tempted to tell you how sexy you are, how your smiles and laughter distract me… I love the way you walk, the way you look asleep in Baby, the look on your face while you're reading, that annoyed look you get when you can't keep your hair out of your face… Every day I imagine myself just finally kissing you and telling you how much I love you and that I'm pretty sure I couldn't live without you." Dean looked away from you for a moment and paused. His confession had you frozen. Words began spilling out quickly. "And then I think about the life we live, Y/N. It's one thing to care about someone, but love comes at a cost. It can be a liability. Love makes you do things you normally would never even consider. I see how strong you are, Y/N, but you're also so caring. So every day I look at this fierce, wild, and glorious woman that is a force of nature and I stop myself. It would be a crime for me to throw that chain around you. It would be like taming lighting—" Dean stopped himself and looked back at you. He looked equally as shocked as you did. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he sat breathless for a long moment.

"Oh God. Shit." Dean released your hand and started to stand up and pace. "Y/N… I am so sorry. I—"

Dean never finished that sentence. You'd made your way towards him while his back was turned. Your fingers were wrapped in his shirt while one hand gripped the back of his head. You could feel his shock and surprise for a moment before he returned your kiss and wrapped his arms around you to pull you in deeper.

You'd imagined this moment a thousand times before but never even dared to hope that it would even come close to a reality. He came up for air and you felt his breath against the side of your neck as he whispered your name. You could feel his heart pounding and listened to the deep, shuddering breaths he took as he held you close. He tensed as you pulled away slightly, but you had to get this next part right or else Dean would question this moment later.

His head was turned away from you. You could tell he was feeling selfish and ashamed. He was bracing himself for your rejection. Your fingers brushed up against his stubble as you cupped his cheek gently and forced him to look at you. Dean's eyes were already full of pain and sadness. It nearly broke your heart and you fought the urge to break eye contact.

"Listen to me, Dean Winchester." You mustered up all of your confidence and courage. "I love you too. I've loved you for a long time now, Dean." You leaned in to whisper into his ear. "And _nothing_ could ever chain me down or tame me." You nipped at his earlobe before trailing a line of kisses down his neck and onto part of his chest. Dean moaned quietly before he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly. You were vaguely aware that he was carrying you back to his room as you pressed more gentle kisses onto his skin.

Once the door closed, you both couldn't seem to undress fast enough… both of your movements were rushed in a flurry of hands and lips desperately seeking contact. He playfully pushed you onto the bed and leaned over you, his hands and mouth were drawn to your body. His hands and lips were wandering down your neck and torso. You let him rub your nipples and suck on your breasts for a moment before twisting and flipping him onto his back. He looked at you in confusion for a moment before you climbed on top of him.

You dropped a hand to stroke his cock in your firm grip while you let your kisses leave small marks across his neck and chest. Every sound of pleasure he made gave you a spark of joy. Dean fisted a hand in your hair and brought your lips to his as he lightly ran his nails down your back causing you to shiver with pleasure.

You felt his fingers gently exploring before pressing deep inside of you. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as you felt his fingers begin to slowly work. You felt him smile against your lips before he placed his thumb against your clit and began to tease and torture you slowly. As you pressed against him, ready to beg for more, a realization hit you—

Dean was only working with one hand. Not only that, he was using his _left_ hand. Dean was right handed… _Oh fuck…_ He was just getting warmed up. "Do you like that Baby?" His voice was husky with a cocky edge to it.

"Mmm hmmm…" You kissed him aggressively as your body screamed for more. Dean would torture you and keep you on the edge for as long as he could. That idea alone turned you on more.

You pulled away and gathered both of his hands together and pinned them above his head. His face was pure pleasure as you lowered yourself onto him and began moving your hips slowly. Dean tried to free his hands and you could see the lust and desire in his eyes as you smiled wickedly at him.

"I'm on top, Dean. I'll call the shots this time." You kept up your pace and felt him thrust into your movements in return. Each movement made him more desperate for release than the last. He was so close that you could feel it as he greedily tried to get more traction and thrust harder from beneath you.

The pace was punishing on you as well though. You couldn't hold back much longer and Dean looked like he was about ready to start begging you. Your own strokes became rougher and uneven as you felt yourself getting closer to orgasm.

"I can't—I can't hold out much longer, Y/N..." That was fine with you, it would only be a matter of moments before you were undone.

"Dean. Flip me." You ground out the words against his chest as you fought back your own orgasm for a moment longer.

"Wha—" His voice was breathless.

"Flip me and fuck me, Dean. Now." You interrupted and caught the glint of delight in his eyes. He didn't need to be told again. God he was so smooth. Dean flipped the both of you without pulling out and placed one of his free hands on your clit as he began thrusting deeply into you, gradually picking up the pace from where you left off. You were so ready. Between his hand and his dick, he had you spilling over the edge as you let go of all the sexual tension you'd kept pent up. _Fuck…_ You felt multiple orgasms wash over you as your vision went white and your body shuddered uncontrollably with pleasure. You cried out in joy and ecstasy as your body wrapped impossibly closer around him. Dean's hands were all over and amplifying your pleasure before he buried himself into your shoulder as he came.

You simply held each other afterwards in pure euphoria and bliss. Dean finally spoke first and gave voice to your thoughts. "I—This is the happiest I've ever felt, Y/N." He kissed you gently and held you closer in his arms.

"Me too, Dean." You closed your eyes and resolved to never tell him that he had just tamed lightning and the whole damn storm as well.

NOW

The sound of a plate being dropped loudly in front of you startled you from your thoughts. Dean was giving you an odd look. You must've spaced out for longer than you realized. The pancakes were alright. They weren't nearly as good as Dean's though. The orange juice was disappointing, extra pulp. _What sick fuck actually enjoys extra pulp?_ The bacon was fantastic. It's hard to mess up bacon and you and Dean weren't extremely picky about it either.

He'd been extremely quiet. You looked up and saw him watching you with mild impatience and irritation as he picked at his food. This was possibly the last meal that you would have together before shit hit the fan. You knew you would regret asking, but you couldn't let it go. "What's the matter, Dean?"

"Nothing, Y/N. I just can't wait to get out of here." Dean's voice had an edge to it that sucked the happiness out of breakfast.

You frowned as your attitude deflated. "Sorry. I just thought we could both use a hot breakfast for once... I miss spending time with you, Dean."

"You know you're welcome to head out with me whenever I go out." He finished off the bacon.

You scoffed. "You mean you and Crowley." Honestly, your patience was wearing thinner by the second. "All you do is go to bars and strip clubs. Pass." You shoved a large bite into your mouth.

"No one said you had to drink and those women are dancers." Dean was talking as if his sole purpose was to infuriate you.

"Let me guess, they're just trying to earn some extra cash for college. Is that what Lisa Marie told you? Or what about that other girl I heard on your end of the phone last night?" You regretted where this conversation was going but your feelings were still too close to the surface.

"I told them—"

"Not to get attached. Yeah, I know." You sat back and sulked against the booth.

"Y/N…" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. It was the first time he'd said your name with any real emotion behind it in a while. You instantly felt bad for letting Dean get the better of you. It was like throwing shit on a dumpster fire.

"Dean, look I—"

The waiter returned quickly and spared an angry glance at you before whispering into Dean's ear. This must be Crowley's inside man. Dean sat up straight suddenly and his eyes shot to you. The waiter left and Dean got up and grabbed your arm. "Come on, Y/N. We're going." His commanding voice set off alarm bells in your head.

"But I'm not done—and we still have to pay!" There was no way that whatever came next would be good and you knew it.

"We're going. Now." Dean's voice was low and full of venom as his grip on your arm tightened.

"Ow… Ok Dean. I'm going..." Fear stabbed your body like a thousand icy needles. Dean's grip on your arm didn't let up as he swiftly led you back to the motel room in silence. He only released you once you were in the room. His anger filled up the space and became a dark and overwhelming presence.

You checked your arm and realized that you would have a large bruise in the shape of Dean's hand. You looked up at him in fear for the first time in your life. "Dean…"

Crowley appeared and his voice drew your attention away from Dean. "Well, if it isn't our very own Judas." He held a piece of paper and handed it to Dean. You realized in horror that it was the note that you'd passed Alicia. "I told you she was no good Dean."

Dean looked up from the note and stared daggers at you. "Y/N… _How could you?!_ " He took a threatening step towards you.

"Dean, just listen—"

Crowley shouted towards the door. "Bring her in, boys." Two demons dragged Alicia into the room. She was gagged and bound. Her eyes were panicked and there was a large bleeding gash along her hair line. One of the demons punched her in the gut and brought her to her knees.

"Alicia!" You ran towards her but one of the demons held you back. "Let her go! Get the fuck off of me!" In one last effort you looked to Dean pleading. "Please Dean, make them let her go!"

Dean's face was full of rage at your betrayal. You realized then that you'd get no support from him and began to lose hope.

"We caught Y/N's little bird here after she made at least one call. It's time to get out of Dodge unless you want your brother and that angel on our tails." Crowley spared you a glance. "I suggest you leave her behind, no telling what she'll do next."

"No… Dean, please. Don't leave me…" You collapsed to your knees as you watched Dean throw a few loose items into his duffle bag.

Dean's eyes were cold and his expression was uncaring. "You betrayed me, Y/N. I'm finally cutting loose for once, getting to enjoy my life, and you just can't handle it. So you lost your shit and called in Sam and Cass. You really are pathetic, Y/N. This is who I am now and you're never going to change me." Dean turned towards Crowley. "Ready when you are."

"Sure Dean, just be sure to clean up this mess. Can't afford loose ends…" Crowley gestured to you and Alicia.

"You don't have to do this Dean! Please stay, we'll find a way to help you deal with the mark." You pleaded, but Dean didn't even look at you once.

You watched Dean stab Alicia in the chest without an ounce of hesitation. "Dean! NO!" A horrible scream ripped through you and Dean walked slowly towards you. He backed you into a corner. The First Blade was inches from your throat as he bent down to your level. His eyes were absolutely deadly and his voice… you could tell that he absolutely meant what he said next. "You get one chance, Y/N. I'm giving you the same deal I gave Sam and Cass. Let me go." With that, Dean stood and walked out of the room.

Crowley looked at you for a moment with a twisted smile and moved his fingers slightly. Your pocket knife flew across the room and landed at your feet. "Looks like I win." Crowley vanished along with the other demons.

You remained alone in the room with Alicia's dead body. Her unseeing eyes stared at you as you completely unraveled. There was no point anymore in keeping up the pretense. There was no reason to act strong anymore.

This time, you didn't take any comfort in the fact Dean didn't tell you goodbye.

 **Reviews are love and will only make me better.**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: This chapter took me a while, but it is the longest chapter by far. It didn't feel right to split it up like Chapter 3. Thank you for your patience and continued support. Please enjoy Chapter 5.**

 **WARNING: This chapter depicts abuse and self harm.**

Minutes… hours… an eternity. The knife was in your hands and you fingered it idly. You stared at it, desperate to focus on anything but Alicia's lifeless body, yet unable to open it and be faced with your reflection in the blade.

You couldn't remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point. Consciousness returned when as felt something on your face. You could vaguely hear someone calling your name.

"Y/N… Y/N!"

You startled suddenly, ready to fight out of instinct and flicked open the knife.

"Woah! Easy there, Y/N." Focusing, you realized Sam was with you. He held out his left hand in surrender and to calm you. You noticed his right arm was in a sling.

"Sammy?" After a moment of disbelief you allowed yourself to relax and look around. "Where's Cass?" You figured that they would be working together.

"Cass… Cass is dealing with some stuff right now. In your message you said funky town, where's Dean?" Deflect, distract, and redirect. Classic Winchester strategies. You filed Cass away in your brain to ask about later.

"The town—it's been crawling with demons since we got here. Crowley's entourage, they follow—followed us everywhere we went. I didn't want you coming in unprepared..." You gazed over Sam's shoulder and caught a glimpse of Alicia's body as you said it. Nausea hit you suddenly and fiercely. You pushed Sam back and barely made it to the bathroom.

Sam followed after you and you felt him sweep back your hair. "Hey, it's ok." He kept murmuring soothing words until your stomach and brain agreed that you had nothing left to offer the Porcelain God. "You done?"

You nodded shakily and took some steadying breaths. Sam kindly handed you a washcloth. "Can't look at her, Sam." You choked back a sob.

"Who? The girl—"

"Alicia. Her name was Alicia and I got her killed." Words began to spill out before you knew what you were saying. "She worked at the diner. I handed her a note with instructions. She's the one that called you. The demons caught her and Dean—" You barely held back another wave of nausea. "Oh God…"

Sam placed and gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke softly. "What happened to Dean, Y/N? Where is he?"

"He—he stabbed her with the First Blade." Your eyes drifted to Sam's. "Dean and Crowley left after—after they were done… He left me behind Sam, he left me." You didn't realize that you'd started crying until Sam brushed his thumb against your cheeks and pulled you into an awkward hug.

"We'll find him, Y/N. It's gonna be ok. We'll find Dean and get him back." Sam was so confident and reassuring that you nearly believed him. "Stay here." Sam stood and left the bathroom. There were some muffled sounds coming from the other side of the door before he returned a few minutes later. He held a hand out to you and helped you to your feet.

"First thing's first, we get you someplace safer and fixed up." Sam led you into the main room and you braced yourself for the horrible sight of Alicia's corpse once more.

Instead, the bed was stripped. Sam had taken the time to wrap her body in the sheets. The gag and rope binding her hands was discarded on the floor while her body had been moved to the bed. You grabbed Sam's sleeve and he stopped as you let out a heavy breath. "Thank you, Sam."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment before he gave you a nod. "Help me gather up all the stuff. The sooner we leave, the better."

Your body moved mechanically and soon you were walking beside Sam. He'd opted to park in an adjoining parking lot so he wouldn't draw attention. You doubted that the old, anonymous sedan would draw anyone's interest though.

Sam mercifully kept mostly silent and allowed you some peace and quiet in the car. It wasn't he'd driven about 40 miles that he started asking questions.

"I know it's hard, Y/N. But I need you to tell me as much as you can about the last few months." Sam turned to look at you before looking back at the road.

"I understand." He was right, you swallowed down your dread for what was coming as well as the anguish you'd been feeling.

"Cass and I figured that Dean was sticking with you and Crowley. What has he been doing since you left?"

"It started with bars and binge drinking. Every night."

Sam knew that you had a distaste for bars and shook his head.

You continued to speak softly and looked down. "Then—then they moved to the strip club scene. I stopped going out with them after that."

"Jesus…" Sam had was having a hard time believing Dean would put you through that. "What else?"

"He's still killing. I know that much." You left out the part where you'd caught Dean with another woman. "But that's not the biggest problem, Sam."

"What aren't you telling me?" Sam glanced sideways at you.

You shifted in the seat for a moment. "Dean… He came back different when The Mark of Cain brought him back. He's not possessed but…" You paused and tried to think of how to explain it. "Dean's soul, it's twisted now. He's becoming a demon, Sam. I've watched him changing gradually and—and I'm not sure how much of Dean is left. It's bad, really bad."

Sam didn't say anything. His entire body was tense and you could see his jaw tick. The gears were turning in his brain now and he looked every bit as dangerous as ever. You braced yourself for him to yell at you for not tipping him off sooner. "How bad?" Sam was focusing all of his energy on driving and keeping a low and even tone with you.

You chewed on a nail nervously. "It started with his eyes turning black. Then he just stopped caring about anything really. A few nights ago—" You stopped yourself at the memory.

"I need to know everything, Y/N."

You didn't want to talk to Sam about what went on between you and Dean. That was always something that you'd tried to keep private even before Dean died. You finally spoke with quiet hesitation. "He was having a nightmare. I was trying to wake him up… He threw me into a wall."

"FUCK!" Sam smacked the steering wheel causing you to jump. He shot you and apologetic look when he realized what he had done. "Sorry, Y/N. It's not your fault. I know you did everything that you did because you love him." He attempted a reassuring smile. "I'm glad he had you looking out for him."

"It's ok, Sam. I understand if you're mad at me." You picked at a tear in your jeans. "I couldn't save him. I was practically luggage and I should've tipped you off sooner."

Sam was silent for a moment and you could tell he was trying to think of what to say. "You're _not_ luggage, Y/N. We're stopping at the next decent place with a vacancy sign. Keep an eye out, ok?"

"Sure Sammy." You used this as an excuse to stare of the passenger window and zone out for a while.

Sam seemed to sense this. Less than an hour later he wordlessly pulled off of the interstate. The motel looked about three times better than anywhere you'd been staying lately.

"You can have the shower first." Sam held the door open for you and tossed his bag onto the bed closest to the entrance. "We'll grab some food after you're cleaned up."

You nodded at Sam in thanks. The gestures he was trying to make weren't lost on you. You knew Sam had probably stopped everything in the hopes of finding you and Dean. Depending on how close he had been, it was likely that he hadn't eaten in a day.

You also noted how he took the first bed. It was normally Dean's bed. He always chose that bed so that he could protect Sam and you from anyone or anything that might come in the night. With one move, Sam had spared you from the sting of sleeping in Dean's bed without him and put himself in the protector role.

You grabbed a change of clothes and your knife while Sam was looking away and headed for the bathroom. You startled at your reflection. Blood splatter. It made you frantic for the shower. Anything to get the last… however long off of you.

The pressure was good, but the water was taking too long to warm up. The cold water did nothing to help as panic and anxiety built up in your chest. You reached out for your knife and added two small cuts to your hip. The water finally warmed up as you were about to add a third. Sighing, you set the knife down and allowed yourself to relax under the spray.

You felt a lot better after cleaning yourself up—you still felt like shit, but better than when Sam had found you. You idly wondered if this was the worst few months of your life or not as you pulled on your clothes. Maybe… A flood of memories hit you before you had the chance to shake them off.

THEN

You bolted upright in bed next to Dean. He was awake instantly and rubbing your back as you tried to calm down and catch your breath. _What the hell…? I haven't dreamt about them in years._

"Snakes or drowning?" Dean furrowed his brows. Those were the two nightmares from your life that he knew about. Even if you hadn't told him, he could've guessed by your normal behavior. You tried to hide how much snakes still triggered you but could only pull off extreme discomfort and unease. Water… Water caused you to feel anything from an unhealthy fascination that consumed you to trepidation and wariness. You'd gotten good at reading each other's nightmares. There was a clear difference between nightmares about before you started hunting and after.

For you, nightmares about hunting were usually tied to your cycle of calm followed by anxiety and panic. They usually left you an emotional mess and clinging to Dean. The nightmares about your life, however… They had a completely different effect. They caused you to withdraw—even from Dean.

Drowning was something that had happened more than once in your life. The first time was by far the worst. It was on the edge, a marker for the beginning of your life as one of your first memories. You remember being so happy, thinking you were a big girl because Dad didn't put the water wings on you. You played on the first step for a few minutes before Dad scooped you up again. He walked with you in his arms along the edge of the pool. He stopped and suddenly, you were flying before you hit the water. Your body panicked and flailed as water filled your lungs. It got harder to move. You felt scared, cold, and sleepy as your vision gradually faded to black.

Suddenly, you were choking. Everything burned and you started sobbing. Mom was there and looking down at you. She was crying too. You were afraid of water for a long time. You resisted learning to swim until you were eight.

The snakes were a phobia from childhood. You were about four. Mom was busy cooking dinner while also watching your little brother and trying to clean before Dad came home and—

You had too much energy and had been inside all day. You begged and begged to go outside so you could run and play. Mom finally said yes as long as you stayed where she could see you from the window. There were no other kids to play with, but you were practically giddy as Mom zipped up your jacket. It was early spring and there was a patch of dirt you liked to play 'garden' in. You grabbed a plastic bucket and a shovel before gathering up some dandelions. 'Garden' involved you shoving the blossoms of weeds and wildflowers into the ground. The bucket served as a perfect seat while you poked and dug with a shovel.

After a few minutes, everything went wrong. There were parts that you'd repressed that only surfaced in dreams and when you were on really strong medicine. It was part of why you didn't drink. You remembered the angry sounds, the black scales, and the weight of it creeping up your leg and on to your back as you were paralyzed in fear. Fight or flight kicked in… You chose flight as it struck. The snake missed your head and neck but managed to latch on to your arm. You ran, screaming, over 100 yards before it let go of you. You kept running in terror. You were one neighborhood over before Mom caught you.

"Neither…" You were still working to ground yourself in the present and reality.

"Jesus… It's ok, Y/N. You're with me. You're in the bunker." Dean's hand remained on your back while he continued to whisper words of comfort. He refrained from wrapping his arms around you. It would normally be alright if it were a nightmare about hunting because it reassured you that Dean and Sam were fine. Holding you now would only send you into a spiral of panic that even Dean would have a hard time pulling you out of. He made that mistake a couple times and had nearly called Cass for help once. He would have to wait until you nodded or gave him the ok.

It couldn't have been more than five or ten minutes before you gave Dean a shaky nod. His arms instantly enveloped you. He held you against his chest and stroked your hair. Dean's steady heartbeat combined with his hand combing through your hair worked to calm you more. He never asked about these nightmares because he knew they were about your old life. That information had to be volunteered. "Bad?"

You nodded again and he held you tighter in response. After a few moments, you let out a heavy sigh. "I never told you what happened to my Mom."

Dean stiffed and relaxed again. He knew this was your way of working yourself up to tell him a story. "No. You didn't." His voice was low and quiet.

"I was eleven when she died. My brother was only eight." You let your head rest against Dean's chest as the both of you laid back down. His heartbeat would help sooth you. But more than that, you didn't want to see the emotions in his eyes as you told this story. You wouldn't be able to handle the pity, sadness, and eventually anger that would come from him.

"She'd been saying that she wasn't feeling good for a while, but she still drove us to school because this other kid was bullying Andy on the bus. One minute we were fine and then the next, we were in the ditch. An ambulance came. Mom was unconscious. Andy and I were scared, but we just had cuts and bruises. We went to the hospital with Mom. They put her in the ICU, but I didn't learn what that stood for until later. I think they kept us in a staff lounge after checking us out because we were kids and they didn't want us to be alone." You paused. Every detail of that hospital would be seared into your memory until the day you died.

"They called Dad… He didn't show up for a long time. We got to see him for a few minutes before he said he was going to check on Mom and left. Andy was so scared, he kept asking me where Mom was and if she was going to be ok. I eventually told him to wait, that I would find out and be right back. Everyone was so busy… They must've been too distracted to notice me. I passed a few rooms before I saw Mom sleeping on a bed. Dad was inside the room. A doctor was talking to him. I got closer until I could hear what they were saying." You traced designs on Dean's chest with your finger.

"The doctor said a lot of stuff I didn't understand, but I understood a lot too. I understood the part where he said that my Mom needed an emergency surgery or she would die within a week or two. I also understood the part where the doctor said that she had a ten percent chance of surviving surgery." Your breath hitched and the first tear fell. Dean's finger appeared to wipe it away.

"I was in shock and I was scared of getting caught eavesdropping. I ran back to my brother as fast as I could. Andy just looked at me. He—he asked me again if I knew if Mom was gonna be ok." Your voice broke as you kept speaking. "I hugged him and I lied. I told him that I saw Mom. I said the doctors were going to make her better. I told him that Mom was going to be ok soon. I didn't—I didn't want the truth to tear his world apart like it had mine." Another tear escaped and you felt Dean's thumb rubbing the back of your neck.

"Mom woke up before surgery the next day. They let Andy and I go see her so we could 'Tell her how much we love her and to get better soon.' We waited in the staff lounge again for our Dad to take us home. I prayed so hard—" You cut yourself off at that thought and managed to put yourself back together a little.

"We didn't have to go to school for a while. A neighbor kid dropped off our homework. I took care of Andy, but it got hard. Mom felt too sick to go grocery shopping before she went to the hospital and Dad only came home with booze and empty fast food bags… Plus, he only came home late at night and left early in the morning." You remembered the alternating feelings of anxiety, hunger, loneliness, and boredom.

"I eventually took some of Mom's emergency money from the freezer so I could buy some food from the gas station even though I wasn't supposed to leave the house. It was cold out since it was February. The gas station was the closest thing and about a mile one way… When I got home, I noticed a piece of paper on the kitchen table. I thought Dad left a note or instructions for me to do something, so I read it. My Mom wrote down her last wishes on that paper." You had to take a minute to breathe. You hated that note more than anything else in the world. It was the object that crystalized reality and set your future in motion. In desperate moments over time, you'd decided that paper was the object on which you would pin all of the blame for your shitty life.

"I read about how my Mom wanted to be cremated, what she wanted to happen to the few nice things she had, how she loved Andy and me, and how she wanted us to grow up. I put it away before Andy found it." You sniffed and drew in a shaky breath. "I couldn't sleep that night. I'd started getting sick with a bad cough after the accident. I went downstairs and tried to watch TV for a distraction. Eventually, Dad came home and asked me what I was doing up. I couldn't help it, Dean. I just lost it and started crying." You paused for a moment. "Dad just watched me for a minute. I'll never forget, he knelt down in front of me as calm as could be. He said that I had nothing to cry about. Then he told me that if he caught me crying again that he would give me something to cry about." You felt the muscles in Dean's arm stiffen. You were glad you weren't looking him in the eye because he was making a fist right now.

"My Mom loved my Dad—I'll never understand why—but she wasn't stupid. Mom knew what kind of a man he was. She didn't want him to raise us if she died. We were both supposed to go and live with her sister's family—my Aunt Sarah." You smiled briefly at the memory of Sarah's face. She was just as kind as your Mom. "That was fine with me, I loved Sarah. Andy liked her family too. Dad didn't hesitate when Mom died in surgery two days later. We were shipped off to her house within twenty-four hours. And… it was actually kinda nice for a few days. I didn't have to worry about taking care of Andy, my cousins were trying to be nice and distract us so we wouldn't feel sad. Sarah even took me to a doctor after she realized I was sick and found out I was coughing up blood." That weekend was the one reprieve you'd had from the horror story of the last week. You didn't know it would be the last bit of normal that you'd get.

"I was walking to the kitchen to get a drink one night and I heard Sarah talking to her husband. My uncle, he wasn't unkind, he was a realist. I decided to listen because I heard my name and I wanted to know why Sarah sounded so sad. My aunt and uncle already had three kids… They were both teachers, so there wasn't a lot of money. They couldn't afford two more kids. They could only afford to take one of us. I realized that they were going to have to choose between Andy and me. I went back to bed and I made a plan." This part wasn't as hard to talk about. You'd done the right thing for your brother. You didn't want him to be the one that had to endure your father.

"The next morning, I pulled Andy aside. I told him that he needed to be on his best behavior while we were staying there. I told him that even though he felt sad, that Mom would want to see him happy. Andy listened to me. He did exactly what I asked him to. Meanwhile, I worked on my impression of a rude, moody pre-teen over the next few days… They chose Andy and I got sent back to Dad. Sarah made him promise to pick up my medicine so I wouldn't get sick again." You sighed. It made you happy knowing that Andy was safe—for a few years at least.

"Dad was quick to ship me off to his sister. I never really liked visiting Aunt Melinda's house as a kid. I liked living there less. It might have been ok… But she had a son, Steven. He was a couple years older than I was. Steven started out as just being a spoiled kid because he was an only child. As Steven got older though, he got mean. He was the kind of kid that liked to throw rocks at animals." You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine. The topic of Steven had always made you feel anxious and left you shaking.

"When I got there, he told me that it was his house and his rules. He said that I had to do whatever he wanted because I owed his family. I told him to go to hell and that I only listened to grown-ups. Steven gave me a black eye as a demonstration. I told his parents that he'd hit me. Steven walked in with a fake apology. He told them that we were playing rough outside and that I'd said that I could handle it. They treated it like a misunderstanding between kids rough housing. Steven was their perfect angel." You debated on how much to tell Dean about him. The last you'd heard, Steven was in prison for manslaughter.

"I managed to avoid him for a few days. I took some more bruises by defying him. On the last night he tried to kill me." Dean lurched up suddenly and looked at you. A thousand different emotions were rolling off of him and he looked like he was about to say something. You silently pleaded for him to calm down. If Dean got worked up, there was no way you'd be able to tell him the rest. He nodded and laid back down next to you.

"Anyways…" You quietly resumed speaking. "I remember going to bed—he was mad at me for some reason... I woke up with a pillow over my face. I tried to push him off, but he was bigger than I was. I used the last of my air to scream into the pillow. It didn't wake up his parents, but it scared him enough to chicken out for a minute. I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. He talked to his parents before I did the next morning. He told them that I was crazy because my mom died. He cried about how he couldn't sleep anymore and that I kept trying to fight with him. Melinda sent me packing to live with my Dad again. I stayed with him until I was sixteen." Dean didn't need to know about the years afterwards. Hopefully he'd never know.

Dean held you close. You felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. He didn't say anything. Your life from before was something you never shared and it was definitely not open for commentary. Dean knew this was your way of showing love and trust by opening up to him. You could still feel his muscles tensing though and the occasional tick of his jaw above your head. For a brief moment, you feared that this was too much all at once. It was too much damage, you were too broken. Dean finally spoke.

"I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you and I'm always going to be here for you." Dean's whole body relaxed and you could hear him smiling. "I'll be by you side even if it means that I have to haunt your ass."

It was meant as a joke and you appreciated his effort to lighten the mood. "Ghost boyfriend…? Sounds like a bad teen romance novel." You managed a half-hearted laugh.

"You're right, ghost doesn't have the right ring to it. I'm gonna need to think of something more awesome." Dean paused and then mused for a moment. "Spirit… phantom… specter… spook?"

You poked him in the ribs. "All of those are lame Dean." You yawned as sleep started to pull at you once more. "We should sleep in tomorrow, Dean. We'll wake up late, watch Netflix all day, eat junk food…" You started to trail off as you consciousness drifted.

"Sounds good to me." Dean smiled. Researching this next hunt could wait a day. He couldn't give you much, but he could give you a slice peace and happiness with a side of almost normal for a day.

NOW

You closed your eyes and drew in a long breath before opening the bathroom door. "I'll be ready to go as soon as I get my shoes on."

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone up to his ear. He smiled at you in acknowledgement before continuing the conversation. "No, there was no sign of him…" Sam's eyes flicked up to you. "Y/N, she's—she's… safe, Cass. I've got her with me now."

You felt heat rise up into your cheeks. Of course Castiel would be worried. You really should've called him sooner. "Hey, Sam. Tell Cass I'm fine. I'll give him a call when we get back. I promise." You plastered a smile on your face and hoped it was convincing enough.

Sam nodded. "Right. We're headed out for food now. Y/N said she'll call you when we get back." He ended the call and waited for you to follow him out to the car. "Any requests for food?"

"Anything that doesn't come from a gas station, vending machine, or bar." You settled into the passenger side.

Sam chose a local place that boasted fresh ingredients but seemed affordable enough. He was trying to take care of you again. "So be honest with me. How long has it been since you had a real meal?"

"I had some breakfast at the diner." You fidgeted. Sam wouldn't like the real answer.

"Diner breakfasts don't count. Real food Y/N. Protein, fruit, vegetables—not deep fried, and not processed over a million times." Sam sat down after you took a seat.

"I guess… I must've been before Dean went after Metatron." You were quiet.

"Damn it." Sam muttered under his breath and looked at you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. When I left all of those messages, I never asked about you. Not even once." He looked away. "I assumed that he would still… look out for you I guess." Sam bit his lip. "I really was shocked when I found you alone. And please, don't take this as an insult, but you look like crap. You're like a sister to me. I should've been concerned about you too."

It was so like Sam to blame himself. "It's fine Sam, honestly. I'll be alright."

Sam scoffed and opened his mouth to protest before the waitress interrupted him.

"Do you know what you'd like to order?"

"I'll take a chicken salad sandwich. Water to drink." You looked at Sam pointedly. The conversation was over.

Sam sighed in resignation. "Cobb salad. Water for me as well."

You both thanked the waitress before she walked off and were left in an uncomfortable silence.

"So what happens now?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Well, I was going to keep you with me while I kept looking for Dean. Now, I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Sam leaned back in his seat. "I'm taking you back to the bunker, Y/N."

Your eyes widened at the realization of what Sam meant. He wasn't just taking you back to the bunker, he was going to leave you there. You were getting benched again. "No…"

"Yes, Y/N. You're not nearly at 100% and I need you focused if you come with me. They'll be expecting you to be on Dean's heels anyway. I need the element of surprise."

You hated the idea of being left behind. Pent up anger, rage, and sadness bubbled to the surface and you were speaking before you could stop yourself. "Oh yeah? And how well did it turn out for you guys the last time you kept me locked up." Your voice was full of venom.

Sam just sat there with an expression of sadness and sympathy. It was a low blow, but he understood why you were upset. "Dean would want me to keep you safe, Y/N."

The waitress brought your food over and left quietly. You knew Sam was right. "Look, I'm sorry Sam. I'd just feel better if I knew I was actually doing something, helping."

"You can help me try and track Dean from the bunker." Sam was avoiding eye contact with you.

You refused to be deterred so easily. "Look, Sam. I promise—"

"You're staying in the bunker, Y/N!" Sam yelled at you and then lowered his voice as people started to look over. "You're staying there and that's final. Now, you have two options. Let me go and look for Dean while you help me track him from the bunker. Or, I watch you and put you on lock down until Cass is feeling better." Sam was deadly serious and left no room for argument. "What's it going to be Y/N?"

You squinted your eyes at him in anger. "Fine! Dump me off at the bunker."

"You know it's not like that." Sam managed to pull off an expression between irritation and guilt.

You paused and chose your words carefully. "You're right. I know what this is." You glanced up at Sam. He really was just trying to look out for you. "But you'd better bring him back soon. Because I swear, as soon as I'm fit enough to take on Crowley and whatever the fuck else, there is _nothing_ that will stop me from leaving the bunker and finding Dean. I will _die_ before I give up on him."

Sam swallowed and gave you a look of complete understanding. "I know. Me too, Y/N."

You didn't question Sam's words for a minute. He'd proven them to be true over and over again in the past.

 **Reviews are love.**


	7. Chapter 6

**AN: Special thanks to peddlergirl for helping me polish this one. I'd also like to thank emilou99 and peddlergirl for reviewing every chapter I've posted. Your feedback helps me greatly.**

Sam barely let you out of his sight once you returned to the motel. He finally recognized that confinement was only going to make you more edgy and irritable.

"Please, Sam. Just let me blow off some steam. I'll be right outside the entrance and on the phone with Cass the entire time." You needed to get some space desperately. Also, you weren't crazy about Sam listening in on your conversation with Castiel. It's not that you were going to say anything that he didn't already know, you just wanted privacy.

Castiel knew more about your past than anyone else. He didn't know _everything_ , but he knew more than even Dean did. It wasn't because you'd volunteered anything—almost the opposite actually.

THEN

Castiel was an angel when you'd first met. He'd been weakened from purgatory though. You suspected that this was the only reason he didn't get the full picture.

You were headed back to the motel with fresh food and supplies. You idly wondered if you preferred the motel or Rufus's old cabin. Since you'd started hunting with Sam and Dean, the motel situation changed slightly. You had to find two rooms instead of one and they both insisted that your room was next door or across the hall. Sam and Dean usually managed to get two adjoining rooms so you weren't constantly knocking on each other's doors with research or anything else.

You entered your room and dropped the supplies on the table and headed to open the door separating you from the Winchesters. You could hear a muffled conversation coming from the other side.

You thought nothing of it until you clearly heard Dean shouting. "Wait. No!"

You pulled a gun out of your jacket and quickly pulled the adjoining door open. You didn't recognize the man filling up the door frame. His presence was powerful and threatening. He wasn't that much taller than you, but _something_ about him made you feel small inside.

"Who are you?" His voice was low and dark. You couldn't see past him to Sam and Dean as you backed up into your room.

"You've got this all wrong." You refused to back away anymore or show weakness. "You're going to tell me who or what the fuck you are before I start trying to figure it out. Silver bullets. After that, I get to improvise."

The man continued to stand in the doorway. He cocked his head and squinted at you for a moment before Dean shoved past him from behind followed by Sam. Suddenly, they were standing between you and the stranger.

"Woah. Let's just slow down for a minute." Dean held out his hands towards the both of you.

You lowered your gun but were still full of suspicion. "I take it you guys know each other?"

Sam's eyes flicked between you and the stranger. "Yeah… Y/N, this is Castiel. Castiel, this is Y/N. She's been hunting with us recently."

You dropped your weapon and stood there in shock. "Castiel? Like Cass… _THE_ Castiel?!" You couldn't help but stare breathlessly at Dean. You'd only heard stories, but you knew how much he meant to Sam and Dean. "You told me he died in purgatory."

"I did. That's what I thought at least. And yeah, it's really him." Dean allowed himself to relax as the tension in the room dropped.

Your gaze was drawn back to Castiel in awe. _How the hell is he alive and out of purgatory…?_ Castiel hadn't moved from his spot. His head was still tilted to one side and the way he looked into your eyes unnerved you. His gaze was piercing and he looked as if he was trying to solve some sort of puzzle.

"Y/N…" Castiel's face pinched in sadness and his voice sounded strained. "I—there are no words—"

 _Shit._ Castiel was an angel. You allowed yourself to forget about the powers that went with that for a moment. "Look, you just spooked me. I heard Dean yell and I thought these two might need me to save their asses. _Again._ " You managed to cut him off before he could say anymore. Castiel looked as if he wanted to continue speaking.

"Hey, I seem to remember scooping your butt out of the fire on the last hunt." Sam was quick to respond with a grin.

"Yeah… whatever." You shook off the remark. "That was one time. I don't know how you guys ever survived without me." You decided on using humor and smugness as a cover for whatever Castiel had shaken loose.

"So… we're good here?" Dean glanced between you and Castiel.

"Yeah. We're… good, Dean." Castiel looked back at you. "I think that I should have a word with, Y/N though. In private."

Nervousness flooded the room. Dean was quick to refuse. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Cass."

"It's fine, guys." You had some things to say to Castiel if this was what you thought it was.

There was a moment of silence before Sam finally broke in with a solution. "We'll take the weapons and keep the door cracked. Cass is going to need a place to sleep anyway and her room has an extra bed."

After a long moment of consideration, Dean nodded. "If I get so much as a bad feeling, we're switching up the rooms." Sam and Dean grabbed your duffle bag and backpack before heading back into their room.

You felt bad about putting Dean in a position that made him feel so nervous. You were slowly learning his signs of fear and anxiety. Right now, you figured that he could use whatever small comfort you could offer him. "Hey, Dean!" You nodded to the bags by the door leading outside. "I got your pie. I'll call you when we're done talking."

Dean smiled at you in appreciation. "You never forget the pie, do you?"

"Never." Dean and Sam were the kindest people you'd ever met and their lives were even shittier than yours. If being reliable and good to them outside of hunting meant things like remembering to pick up pie, you were pretty sure you could handle that.

Dean left you and Castiel to face each other. You had a chance to take a closer look and evaluate him. What struck you most was how seemingly ordinary he appeared to be on the surface. From what Dean had told you about him, you'd been expecting someone… different. You turned and walked towards the bags. _Get your poker face on, Y/N._

"So, what? Do you always use angel mojo to look inside of stranger's heads? That seems a bit rude to me." You began mindlessly sorting out the supplies as you spoke with your back to him.

"Forgive me, it was not my intention to intrude. Sam and Dean had yet to mention you. I was determining whether or not you were a real threat." Castiel stood near the end of one of the beds.

"And…?" You prompted Castiel to continue as you turned to face him.

"You _are_ dangerous… But you are not a threat to Sam or Dean." Castiel gazed up at you.

You'd played enough games—emotional and real—to know when someone is being conservative. "Cards on the table, Castiel. What did you see?"

Castiel let out a sigh and looked away for a moment. "Mostly just glimpses. Purgatory—I'm still weakened, but you could say I saw a little bit of everything that's been done to you." His expression was full of sadness and sympathy.

There was one question, you had to know… "Did you ever see me… alone…?" You kept your voice low and quiet.

"No. I'm not able to look that deeply at the moment, I was only able to see moments you've shared with others. I—"

"Good." You nodded to yourself. "Don't look anymore." Castiel's expression remained the same. The pity in his eyes… it felt as if it were burning into your soul. "Stop! Just… don't look at me like that. Ok?" You ran a hand through your hair and started pacing anxiously.

"Y/N, I don't understand…" Castiel moved into your personal space. He placed a hand on your shoulder and stopped your pacing. You looked up as his eyes widened.

You shrugged him off quickly. "You're doing it again… Please, stop it, Castiel." You let out a sigh of frustration and irritation. The last thing you wanted was for your past to come out. Sam and Dean would never look at you the same way again.

His head tilted again. "You're afraid that I'll tell Sam and Dean what I saw." Castiel noted the irritated look you shot at him. "That was just an observation by the way."

"I'm not afraid, Castiel." You scoffed. "I'm not afraid because if they find out _anything_ , I'll know who let the cat out of the bag. This, hunting with Sam and Dean, as far as having a life goes… this is all I have. There is nothing else out there waiting for me." You took a deep breath and tried your best to look threatening. "If I lose this—all because you wanted to feel _sorry_ for me—I will never forgive you. I—"

Castiel interrupted you before you could continue with your threat. "I _will not_ forget what I saw, Y/N. I also won't tell Sam or Dean about it, but I think you should." His tone was firm, yet gentle.

You looked at Castiel like he was crazy and opened your mouth to argue.

"Don't tell them yet. But give the Winchesters some credit, Y/N. You have much in common." Castiel gave you something close to a smile. He sat down on the edge of the bed calmly.

You were taken aback. You'd expected the situation to escalate into a fight. You found yourself sitting down next to him.

Castiel kept looking forward as he spoke. "There are a few things that I need to tell you." He finally turned his gaze to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn't shake him off this time. You could sense it was out of a desire to offer comfort. It felt… different when he tried to read you. "First, there is a God. I'm not sure that's a comfort to you, but there is a God. Second, when I looked into your memories again, I did it to understand how you felt. I've been told that I'm… bad when it comes to human emotions." Castiel let out a heavy sigh. "It's true that you've made some mistakes in life, you're only human, Y/N." He smiled to himself. He probably thought he was being incredibly witty. Then, he became completely serious again. "None of what I saw was your fault."

At those words, your heart sped up. _No. NO. FUCK NO!_ You were not going there. Not here. Not with him, not with anyone. His grip tightened on your shoulder.

"Listen to me, Y/N. You did _nothing_ to deserve that life." He continued to hold you firmly. "I do not say that out of pity." His eyes were so intense that you let yourself believe him for a moment. "I promise, I won't look into your memories again without your permission." At this, you felt yourself relax slightly. "I may have to look into your thoughts because of a hunt, but I will only do so when absolutely necessary. Do we have an understanding?"

You nodded and let go of all of the tension you'd been holding in. "Yeah… Yeah, Castiel, we have an understanding." Tentatively, you let your head rest on his shoulder. You sat like that for a few moments in silence and relief. "Do you think—" You swallowed against the rising anxiety of voluntarily letting someone else in the small circle of people you let yourself trust. "Do you think I could call you Cass too?"

The request combined with the gesture was not lost on Castiel. "I would be honored, Y/N."

NOW

You sniffed as you held your cell phone to your ear. Castiel didn't answer right away. Your anxiety and concern for him rose as you got closer and closer to voicemail.

"Hello?" Castiel's voice was groggy. He really wasn't doing well. You frowned.

"Hey Cass… It's me."

There was movement in the background and you could almost see him coming to attention for you. "Y/N! Are—" Castiel began coughing. "Are you alright? Sam told me he found you."

"Sam picked me up earlier. Did he fill you in on Dean?" You didn't want to talk about yourself at this exact moment.

Castiel's tone grew dark as he sighed. "Yes. Sam mentioned it. You know what needs to be done if—"

"Then it's a good thing that I'm going to find a way to save him. Whatever I find, I'll make it work even if it kills me." You were _not_ going to think about the possibility of Dean being gone forever.

"Don't say that. You're just as important." Castiel's tone was soft and gentle as he spoke to you.

It was like he was reading your mind again even though there was no way he could. You had no response. Deep down, as much as you felt like one of the Winchesters, you knew that no matter what, you would never be as important as Sam, Dean, or Cass.

Cass waited for you to respond and eventually broke the silence, his voice full of concern. "You're not alright."

You drew your knees up to your chest as you sat on the bench and attempted to make yourself sound more upbeat. "What's going on with you? I listened to your messages… Even right now, you don't sound ok. And please don't lie to me. I'll only worry more."

You could hear him let out a breath on the other end. "The angel grace… it's deteriorating."

 _Oh shit, please don't let this be one more thing._ "So… you're going back to being human?" Your voice was hopeful.

"No, Y/N." Cass sounded utterly exhausted.

"Then, what happens when the grace deteriorates?" You swallowed, your voice quiet.

"I deteriorate with it until it is gone." The implication was heavy in the silence.

If there was one thing you'd learned from the Winchesters, it was that misery loves company. You might as well open up a little. "You're right, Cass." Your voice broke on his name. "I'm not alright either."

Cass knew enough about you to appreciate the gravity of your words. "Y/N…"

"But don't worry about me, ok? Sam's driving me back to the bunker." You wiped the tears from your eyes. "It's the perfect distraction. Find a way to cure Dean and then work on a way to fix your grace." You forced out a laugh. "It's no problem. What will I do with the other twenty-three hours in the day?"

"Well, I imagine that you would need to sleep for some time and eat. There are other, more mundane tasks—"

"I was joking, Cass." Something about him missing jokes made you smile. "Hey. I missed you, Feather Brain."

"I missed you too, Y/N." There was a pause. "I know it's not easy for you to be away from Dean, but I'm relieved that Sam found you."

"Not for long, Cass. We're going to find him."

"If anyone can track down Dean, it's you and Sam."

Your phone started to beep with another call coming in. It was Sam. He was probably starting to worry. "Sam's gonna start pacing and wear a hole in the carpet if I don't get back. Stay safe, Cass. Take care of yourself." _Please don't die._

"You too, Y/N."

You ended the call and returned to the room you shared with Sam. He gave you a look and opened his mouth. "You were worried. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm back for the night so calm down." You plopped on the bed and tried to focus on whatever Sam had been pretending to watch.

"Can you blame me?" Sam was giving you 'the look', the one with the sad puppy eyes.

You sighed and let some of your bravado fall away. "No. No, I can't blame you Sam. To you, I've been either dead or MIA with Dean until recently." It still stung a bit that Sam didn't consider that you could've been killed. Not because of anything personal, but because you wanted to think that someone would look for you if you'd died.

Sam's shoulders slumped as he let out a heavy sigh. He turned down the volume on the television. "Get some sleep. We've got some miles to put behind us tomorrow."

You rolled onto your side and eventually passed out. Your body may have given up, but your brain was on overdrive.

 _Dean's eyes. Black eyes. Blood—oh God, so much blood. The cruelty in his face… The mark glowed in the darkness as he turned to you. "I shoulda dropped your ass a long time ago. You're nothing but dead weight." Somewhere it registered that it was your blood._

" _Please, Dean…" You were suspended from a hook. Your toes barely grazed the floor and your arms were on fire._

" _I can't believe I wasted all of that time on you, all of those sleepless nights. And it was all just because you can't keep your own shit together. Honestly, the only relief bigger than getting rid of you is going to be cutting into you." He eyed a tray of knives that appeared._

" _Dean. You have to stop. This isn't who you are." You tried to hide your fear and angle your body away from him._

" _It might not be who I was—God I was pathetic—but it's sure as hell who I am now." Dean smiled and reached towards the tray._

"…Y/N. Y/N!" Sam was shaking your shoulders. You scrambled backwards and assessed your surroundings. Two queen beds, shitty wallpaper, non-descript artwork. Motel, you were in the motel. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing.

"You were having a bad dream." Sam's eyes were full of concern. "It sounded pretty bad. You were screaming…"

 _Shit, you're telling me._ "Don't worry about it, Sam. I've just been low on sleep." Another nightmare to add to the repertoire. You noted the faint glow outside of the window. The sun must've just risen. "I can sleep in the car. How about we get an early move on?"

Sam gave you a skeptical look before eventually nodding. "If you get the stuff packed, I'll pull the car around and check us out."

You blew out a deep breath. The sooner you got to the bunker, the better. The other shoe had started to drop and you really didn't want Sam around when it hit the ground.

You slid in the front seat next to Sam. Your head rested against the cool window and you drifted back into a dreamless sleep for a couple hours.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder to gently wake you. There were a couple of lattes in the cup holders and a bag of food sat between you. "I picked up some breakfast. Take your pick of the sandwiches. I wasn't sure what you would be in the mood for… You still like mochas?" Sam was really trying to make up for the initial tension between the two of you.

"Yeah. Thanks, Sam." You smiled and took a sip of your drink. It was the first mocha you'd had in months. "Mmm… Oh God, this is perfect."

Sam pulled the car into gear. "Would you like me to leave you alone with the beverage?" His mouth turned upwards into a smile.

"Don't be a bitch, Sammy. You're just jealous of what we have together. Chocolate and me—that's an unbreakable bond." You rifled through the bag of breakfast sandwiches and found one that didn't scream 'heart attack.'

The rest of the day passed rather calmly. You and Sam made good time back to the bunker. You'd almost forgotten how much you missed Sam's carefree banter. Your heart sank a little when you realized that Sam would really just be dropping you off instead of staying at least one night.

"You're sure you've got everything you need?" Sam asked you from the top of the stairs. It was his way of asking if you were ok before he left.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." You forced yourself to smile.

"Alright then. Call me if you find anything and I'll be checking in." Sam gave you one last look before leaving the bunker.

The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty bunker like one last, hollow heartbeat. Everything that had been weighing on you finally hit in full force as you let down your defenses for the first time in months.

Sam had tried to be kind by carrying in your things. But he'd put all of your bags in Dean's room. That room was full of constant reminders of what you had, what you failed to do… You couldn't _not_ see Dean's body laid out on the bed. All of the good and all of the bad flowed through your brain at once. _Out… I have to get out of here…_

You scooped up your bags and hurried into your room. It was nearly empty since you'd started sleeping with Dean. You managed to hold it together long enough to unpack a few things and your room began to feel less like a cell and more like a living space.

You dreaded the idea of sleep, but exhaustion was taking over again. Research would have to wait until tomorrow. You knew the nightmares and darkness would haunt your dreams. You resigned yourself to the fact that fear, anxiety, and panic would own you tonight.

 **AN: Thanks for reading. Reviews are love and will only make the story better. I am willing to consider suggestions. Until the next chapter lovelies...**


	8. Chapter 7

**AN: Another super long chapter, so buckle up. Thanks to all my followers and reviewers. A special thanks to peddlergirl for transforming a chapter that looked like Frankenstein's monster into something coherent.**

 _A man's distorted voice echoed in your head. "You really are worthless, Y/N. If only I could get rid of you, too…"_

 _You desperately fought the tears that threatened to fall. "Please… I'm sorry. I know I've been more trouble than I'm worth, but I'll get better. I'll be better. I promise. Please… you can't leave me alone." You were on your knees and kept an eye on the bottle of beer dangling in his grip._

" _It's no wonder nobody wants you, Y/N. You know that, right?" The voice sneered._

 _A single, silent tear escaped. You saw the room spin before you felt the pain of the blow._

" _Like I said, something to cry about." Your eyes drifted up towards your father. He gave you a look of annoyance and took a swig of beer before letting out a hiss. "That one looks like it's gonna bruise. Anyone asks—"_

" _Softball practice." You mumbled and looked away._

" _Right. I didn't sign you up for nothing." He looked smug. Softball was the perfect cover for his outbursts. "You'd think it'd make you toughen up a little bit though." He cast a sideways glance at you._

" _Yes, Dad." You spoke quietly. It was an automatic response at this point. It was easier to agree with him than risk things escalating. "Can I go to my room now?"_

 _He nodded and waved you away._

 _As you walked towards your room with your head hanging, the walls twisted and morphed until it became the bunker. Sam's voice stopped you as you walked past his door. "He really has a point, you know." Sam casually walked towards you and leaned on the doorframe._

" _W—what?"_

 _Dean appeared behind you. "Your Dad, Y/N…"_

" _Really, Y/N. How do you think this all ends? We don't need you." Sam shook his head at you._

 _You looked to Dean. "Please, Dean. Tell him… I love you. We're in love…"_

" _I think this one really likes you, Dean." Sam began laughing. "You really are thick sometimes, Y/N. Dean was just having fun. You just happened to be the flavor of the month, that's all."_

 _You looked at Dean and he merely shrugged. "This ends either with you getting killed on a hunt or the next time I meet a hot chick named after a flower. Whichever one comes first."_

 _Tears started flowing and you choked back a sob. "You don't mean that…"_

" _Aww, Y/N. You know how I hate to see you cry." Dean lifted his left hand to touch your face gently. You let yourself take comfort in his touch briefly. Then, his eyes turned black as he pulled his right hand into a fist and punched you._

"DEAN!" Your voice echoed through the darkness surrounding you. The darkness of the bunker was the first thing that registered and your brain immediately went into panic mode. You were left with no point of reference and nothing to ground yourself in reality. You automatically reached for the only constant that had been in your life recently. The knife under your pillow—or was it Dean's pillow…? Your memories were a jumbled mess.

Air. You needed air but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. Your head began to throb and dizziness assaulted your brain. You let out something between a wheeze and a whimper as you curled in on yourself and clutched the knife tightly.

You could sense that you were alone in the suffocating silence. You were shaking, but your hand remained still. Your fingers worked automatically, the same way that they had even before you met Sam and Dean. It was as simple as muscle memory and adjusting to individual knives… The blade flicked open with ease. It found its way to your left hip and you felt a small slice of pain.

It cut through your panic enough to establish some level of reality. You shakily took your first deep breath. You knew the pain was real, the pain was always what was real. It started to fade before you'd grounded yourself. This time you drew the blade against your skin twice. The shaking stopped and your breathing continued to even out.

Light was next on your list. Your hand reached out to the side as you felt for any sort of bedside table or surface. You were rewarded with a table on your left, but there was no lamp. Instead, your fingers grazed something smooth and rectangular. _Cellphone…_ You grabbed it to use the screen as a light. You saw one of your bags and the blankets that you'd kicked off of the bed in your sleep. As your location registered in your brain, you nearly fell backwards on the bed with relief.

Your bare feet were greeted by the cold floor when you stood up to flip on the lights. As you leaned against the wall, you were pretty sure you felt more exhausted than when you'd fallen asleep. But after the taste of what nightmares awaited you, sleep was the last thing you wanted right now.

Right now, you wanted to be alert. Most of all, you wanted to focus on anything other than the circus in your brain. You avoided your reflection in the mirror as you made your way into the bathroom.

You absently gazed at the cuts you'd made tonight. They were desperate and somewhat deep. The red lines ran perpendicular to each other. They would take a while to heal.

You turned on the shower before peeling off your sweaty t-shirt and underwear. The cold spray sent a jolt through your system and left you gasping for air. You forced yourself to step further into it without adjusting the temperature. The icy water felt like a thousand tiny needles and brought the world into sharp focus. You let it run over you as you started to shiver. Your limbs began to ache, but you didn't care.

You just wanted to focus on anything but the fear and panic that had been chasing you for months. It was all starting to catch up now that you were in the bunker—a place you felt safe in. You couldn't afford to lose yourself, not yet. Sam needed your help to find and fix Dean. Dean was Sam's priority. You doubted that he'd given much thought to Castiel. Cass was in deep and you were possibly the only person that listed fixing him up on your list of priorities. Those three were your family now and they all needed that cold focus you drew out in times of crisis.

You started to feel a little better and dried off. Better enough to go make some coffee at least. With a steaming mug in your hand, you made your way to the library. It was almost five in the morning and part of you regretted the fact that you couldn't have slept longer. Given how tired you were now, it was going to be hard to make it through the day without crashing.

Over the next few hours, you went through all of the books on various types of exorcisms that the Men of Letters had to offer. None of them seemed to fit what Dean needed. A thought suddenly occurred to you in the late afternoon. It was so obvious, it had to be wrong. There was no way that the answer was that simple and staring you in the face. You decided to call Cass first.

"Y/N. Are you alright?" Castiel sounded more alert, but not necessarily better.

 _Don't think about it_. You sidestepped the topic. "Just tired. Cass, I need to ask you something."

"I see. What is it?"

"The blood ritual that Sam used on Crowley during the last trial, is it possible that we could use that to cure Dean?" You began to pace as hope and anxiety fought for control of your brain. A lot hinged on Cass's answer.

There was a long pause. "I suppose it's possible… There's no guarantee that anything will work though, Y/N. I'm sure you know that this… situation with Dean is unique." It was so like Cass to be a skeptic when he truly wanted something to work out. You related to him not wanting to get his hopes up.

You sighed. "Yeah, I know. But we don't exactly want to exorcise him, we want to save him. I'm pretty sure that means curing a demon. Or something adjacent."

"Y/N. You saw what happened to Crowley. Are—are you willing to put Dean through that? We don't know that it'll work. He may not survive."

"Dean will survive." Your response was automatic. There was no other option in your mind. "I'll try anything if it has a chance at helping him come back."

"I think you have your answer."

"I guess I just needed to hear it from you. I need to call Sam. Thanks, Cass." You felt slightly unburdened by his reassurance and faith in you.

"Keep me updated on Dean."

"Don't worry. I'll keep you in the loop if anything happens. Stay home and rest up. Your grace is next on my list."

You heard Cass sigh. His tone shifted and he sounded so resigned. "Y/N… Perhaps it's best if—"

"Hey, you're my Wingman, my Winchester Whisperer. I'm gonna need you ready to go when Dean's back or else the two of them combined are gonna drive me insane." You kept your tone light. You were disappointed at the silence that greeted you. "Hey, you hear me, Cass?"

"Yes. I hear you. You should call Sam with the news." His tone hadn't changed and you frowned a little.

"I'll call you later. Take it easy." You ended the call before things could get more depressing. You were determined to find a way to help Castiel. You would pray on your hands and knees if you had to—something you hadn't done since your Mom died.

The angels were mostly dicks and God… You doubted his existence until Castiel told you otherwise. Now you were certain that God was nothing more than a powerful little boy that enjoyed making butterflies so that he could feel the joy of slowly pulling their wings off and watching them die. Killing God was a big item on your list. It would have to wait for later though. For now, you had to call Sam with the news.

His phone rang a couple times before he answered.

"Hey. What's up?" Sam sounded mildly concerned.

"I have a plan to help Dean." You let yourself feel a little bit excited as you said the words.

"What? That's great!" Sam sounded genuinely thrilled. For the first time in a long time, you didn't feel like a failure. "What's the plan?"

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. Sam really wasn't going to like this part. "The blood purification ritual that you used on Crowley. I'm thinking that we can't exorcise Dean, but we can try to cure him."

There was a long silence. "That might be a long shot. How sure are you that it will work?" Sam's voice was low and quiet. You could practically hear him thinking though.

 _Not at all. And there's no way Sam can do the ritual again._ "I talked to Cass. I think it's our only shot, Sam." You paused and took a deep breath. _Nothing_ about the ritual was appealing to you. But you could spare Sam from it and you would be willing to do anything for Dean. You wouldn't agree to this if it were anyone else other than the Winchesters and Castiel. Ok, maybe Charlie too. "I'll do the ritual this time. I think—"

"No." Sam's voice was still quiet, but it had a dark edge to it.

"Sam, listen. We learned a lot since—"

"I said no, Y/N. You're not doing the ritual." Sam's voice was firm and left little room for debate. But you were done picking battles with Sam and Dean. You knew Sam's judgement was impaired, not that yours was any better …

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Sammy… We need to get Dean back." You kept your voice soft. "I know the last time we tried… it was bad. It really messed with you for a long time. We both know that you won't make it through another one."

"No. Either I do it or we find another way. Dean wouldn't want—"

"Dean wouldn't want to be a demon, but here we are Sam." Words began spilling out of your mouth as your voice rose. "So please, help me think of another way or let me do the ritual because I can't lose both of you."

"Y/N—"

"Fuck it. Sam, you know Cass isn't doing so great. I'm going to lose Dean if we don't do something soon. And this ritual… it could kill you _and_ Dean. You and Cass are my best friends, my family. And Dean… you know how much he means to me. If I lose all three of you, that's it. You're all I've got. So please, keep yourself out of danger. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me, Sam."

Sam cleared his throat and you could hear him quietly struggling to find the right thing to say. After a few moments he spoke. "We need a work around." His voice was quiet. You didn't really expect him to have a reply for your outburst. Not over the phone anyway. "The ritual requires blood—we know that. What else?"

You bit your lip and thought for a moment. "We probably need the blood from one person. The blood also needs to be purified through prayer."

"Right." You could almost hear Sam thinking and forming a plan. "We get the blood from a hospital. They should have some from organ donors. We might have a chance at getting a good amount from the same donor. After we find that, I'm thinking we could maybe find a priest to bless the blood."

"Sure." You scoffed. "How are we going to convince a priest to bless a bunch of stolen bags of blood?" You had trouble picturing this scheme working.

"I'll figure it out. We've convinced people to do more under shadier circumstances. This should be a walk in the park." Sam was sounding more confident by the second.

"Well… I guess. In theory, it should work." You reasoned with yourself. The blood ritual had provided results, but this method lessened the risks to everyone involved. It was a tough choice, but Sam was probably right this time. "Are you sure Sam? Changing spells and rituals can get dicey."

You heard Sam let out a breath. "The whole plan is a long shot. We can't do anything until we find him. What I really need are some leads. Is there anything you remember that might lead me to him?"

"I told you everything, Sam. Crowley's group is keeping a low profile. There were never any freak storms or signs when we moved. Occasionally someone went missing or ended up dead because of the demons, but none of it was extraordinary enough to hit hunters' radar. Dean's still driving the Impala. So I'd keep an eye out for police reports on cars matching that description." You closed your eyes and tried to think of anything that would help. "Crowley liked to bitch about the motels only being fit for roaches. Dean insists on the cheapest and most anonymous places he can find. He'd occasionally book a Super 8 or Motel 6, but nothing above that."

"I guess I'll keep looking then. Let me know if you find anything else." You could tell Sam was trying to hide his frustration. It was hard not to take it personally.

"I will."

Sam promised to check in again and ended the call. You were left alone in the library again feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Self-pity and loathing could wait. With a possible solution to getting Dean back to normal, you needed to focus on actually finding him and fixing Castiel.

You grabbed your laptop and opened the program you and Charlie had created a few months ago. It was designed so that you could easily access and cross-reference any government database including law enforcement. Charlie made it ridiculously easy to use. All you had to do was enter basic descriptive terms in the search engine. From there, you could check boxes to refine your search to various government agencies. There was even an option to further narrow the results to a geographic area.

You completed three separate searches. The first search was for the Impala, the second was for any person matching Dean's description, and the third was for any of Dean's known aliases popping up.

You sincerely doubted that anything would turn up this early in the game and you were right. You didn't let that deter you though, something was bound to happen sooner or later. The program would refresh the searches every fifteen minutes as long as you left it open. If any new results came in, the computer would light up like a Christmas tree and send a notification to your cell phone. Charlie was amazing enough to create a corresponding app for your phone so you wouldn't have to constantly monitor the laptop.

You didn't enjoy researching angels. First of all, most of the lore failed to mention what self-absorbed assholes most of them were. It was difficult to find information that wasn't completely tainted with one religious view or another. Secondly, there was very little information available. Most of it was based on bible stories and speculation. Over the last couple years, you'd managed to nearly double the amount of information on angels in the Men of Letters database.

The lore on the nature of angel grace was even more limited. You put your hands over your eyes as you realized that the research would barely provide a jumping off point. Everything would be based in theory and speculation. You didn't like the idea of experimenting on your friends.

You grabbed a notebook and began jotting down any ideas you had. You only stopped to brew more coffee and eat whatever you could easily grab. Hours passed as you worked and you noticed that it was well past one in the morning. You could feel the urge to sleep taking over, but you refused to let you mind stop working. Unfortunately, will power and coffee could only take you so far.

 _It was dark and you were on your back. You could feel soft blades of grass and damp earth beneath you. For a brief moment, you felt at peace and let out a sigh._

 _That's when you heard something rustling in the plants. Your blood ran cold as you felt something move against your body. The paranoia and fear never left you. Ever. Your brain instantly recognized the flicking of its tongue and the feeling of its scales against your skin. No no no no no… The fear was so overwhelming that you froze in terror._

 _You felt the snake begin to slowly slither up your arm. It would reach your chest in moments and then… Terror morphed into blind panic. You were on your feet and running. You had no idea where you were or where you were going, you just needed to get the fuck away._

 _You finally stopped running when you found yourself at your Aunt Sarah's farmhouse. As the sun rose, you could get a better look at your surroundings. The house looked to be in bad shape and the lawn was overgrown. The trees—Oh God, the trees…_

 _All of the trees—and there were a lot of them—had extremely large snakes decorating their branches. They made the limbs look as if they were writhing. You reached for your gun and began shooting at them. This was so wrong, they didn't belong here of all places._

 _Every one of your shots hit the mark and provided momentary relief. Dead snakes fell from the trees around you before you eventually ran out of bullets. There were still snakes in the trees_ _branches hissing angrily at you. You wanted to run, to scream… But where would you go? You held your voice in fear as you forced your legs to work and back away._

 _As soon as you took a step backwards, a new horror took shape. Slightly smaller snakes began to spill endlessly from the dead ones. They slithered towards you as you ran. The scent of water and wet earth hit you and you felt yourself sinking. It wasn't like quicksand, it was like the earth itself was trying to suck you in. It held in the same spot and you hoped the mud would swallow you before the wave of snakes caught up._

 _You were neck deep now and you realized that you would not be spared. The slithering, hissing swarm gathered around you. One coiled back in preparation to strike. You saw fangs and felt a jolt._

You felt yourself falling and your head smacked against the cold floor. The nightmare sent you scrambling briefly as your lungs attempted to suck all of the air from the room. This time it was easier. The library lights were on. Your laptop and phone were going off. _Fucking snakes…_ The noise is what probably had woken you up.

 _The tracking program…_ Your brain registered what this meant and you instantly went into action. You cut the alarms and looked to see what triggered it. There was a police report that included a witness statement and surveillance footage. As you waited for the video to download, you checked the witness's statement. It roughly matched the search terms you'd entered for Dean and the Impala.

You anxiously waited for the download to complete. You wanted to be absolutely sure. If you had any doubts, they were erased once you pressed play. You almost forgot to breathe as your eyes widened. It was definitely him, you'd recognize Dean anywhere. You pretended not to see the porn magazine he was openly flipping through in the convenience store and focused on the situation. He was standing, seemingly innocently enough. Suddenly, you noticed the man behind Dean start to step towards him. His eyes flashed black and he tried to attack Dean. A demon attacked Dean. _Why…?_ Dean began to fight him off and you caught a glimpse of the blade. Your brain tried to take you back to the motel room, back to Alicia. You fought off the memories and forced yourself to focus as you reached for the phone.

Sam sounded groggy as he answered. "Y/N, is everything all right?"

"I've got him." Your eyes were fixed on the last frame of the tape.

You heard Sam draw in a sharp breath. "What?" He was instantly more alert.

"The program Charlie and I put together. I put in Dean's description and the Impala. It just triggered a hit in the police database." You were breathless. This was a solid lead. It couldn't have happened more than a few hours ago. "The hit is from Wisconsin. There's a police report and some surveillance tape from a convenience store. It's definitely him, Sam."

"You're sure?" You could tell you were on speaker now. By the sounds in the background, Sam was already packing his bags.

"Absolutely. The report is from Portage County. Where are you now?" Determination filled your voice as you walked to your room and grabbed a pre-packed bag you kept.

"Uh… Iowa. I think. I'm not sure if I crossed the state line last night."

"It's a fresh lead. Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but you need to hit the road." You made it back to the library and tossed the notes you'd made on angel grace in your bag.

"I'm already leaving. I'll be on the road in less than five minutes." You could hear Sam moving quickly in the background.

You reached the garage and were greeted with the sweet sight of your car. You loved Dean's car, but it wasn't yours. Your car was the only thing that you could really say was yours other than the weapons and books you hoarded. You blindly reached for the keys and came up empty. "Hey, Sam… Where are my keys?"

"Why?" Sam tried to come off as innocent. You knew better. You _knew_ he took them and now he was going to play this game.

"Because if I leave right now, I'll only be a day behind you." You tried to keep calm and hide your anger. Accusing Sam of taking your keys and starting a fight wasn't going to help.

"Y/N, there's no way you're back to 100% after less than forty-eight hours in the bunker. How much sleep did you get after I left?" Sam's voice was full of concern. You wanted to ignore it. Acknowledging everything would only take away that cold edge of focus that you needed.

"I'm fine. Where are my keys, Sam?" You closed your eyes and bit back at your irritation.

"You're not fine. I knew you'd end up being a flight risk. I took your keys with me before I left."

There it was, confirmation of your suspicions. "You had no right to do that…" You worked to keep yourself from shouting at him.

"Had no right to do what, Y/N?" Sam's tone was gentle but you could hear an edge of frustration. "Had no right to make sure you don't go out and self-destruct while I'm gone? You made a deal with me. You told me to bring Dean home. You said you didn't need me to stay and babysit you. But just because I'm out looking for Dean, doesn't mean that I stop looking out for you." Sam let out an audible breath.

"I let you down before, Y/N. I stopped looking out for you. That's not going to happen again." Your heart broke a little when you heard the guilt in his voice. "All I cared about was finding Dean. I know you can take care of yourself and I assumed that Dean would protect you. I never—I never really stopped to think about the danger you might be in. I even let myself feel angry when I realized you were alone." Sam's voice got quieter as he spoke. Your heart shattered at his admission. "When I saw you passed out in the corner, when I really saw what kind of shape you were in… I was wrong, Y/N. It should have been enough to find you and get you back. Nothing can change or fix the last few months, but I can do better. I can try to keep you safe and be the friend—the brother that you deserve."

You sank to the floor and tears threatened to fall. "Sam—"

"You're the closest thing I have to a sister, Y/N. You've saved my life—our lives countless times. I'd be dead if it weren't for you. You deserve better than being constantly put behind someone else. What makes it all worse is how selfless you are. You never put yourself first and I took you for granted. Not anymore. So yeah, I took your keys so you would stay in the bunker and maybe, just maybe take care of yourself." Sam paused for a moment. "Look, we can talk about this later. I need to get on the road and…" Sam trailed off.

You sniffed and decided that you'd let this one go. "Call me when you get there. Ok?"

"For sure."

"Take care of yourself, Sammy." You ended the call and walked back into the bunker. Sam wasn't your brother by blood and you'd never called him that out loud. You'd called him your family before, but never a brother.

You thought about it for a moment and wondered why you'd never said it before. It's not that you didn't feel it or that Sam hadn't earned the title. And Andy... Andy was gone. You quickly turned your thoughts away from him. You took a moment and briefly allowed yourself to feel normal, to feel like you finally had a family that cared about you.

The moment passed and you focused on the only two things you could do. You could monitor the laptop and you could work on fixing Cass. Your notebook already looked like the work of an obsessive maniac after one afternoon. You sighed and realized your thoughts had been too scattered. There were random words, phrases, diagrams, things crossed out, and the odd drawing of Dean's eyes that you'd started to make as your mind wandered off.

You started again with what you knew. Metatron used Castiel's grace to put heaven on lockdown. When Cass lost his grace, he became human. Did he survive losing his grace because of the spell or because of something Metatron did? Or was it something else entirely? Next, Castiel stole grace from another angel. It made him an angel again, but now the stolen grace was killing him.

You jotted down your thoughts. Grace didn't equal a soul, but it was something close to it for angels. You started a list of things to try in order of optimal outcomes. First on the list was to find a miracle that would restore Castiel to angel status completely—given that miracles were few and Castiel's status in heaven was questionable, you doubted that this was a plan and not a wish. Second, you could try to find a spell to turn an angel into a human. If Lame-atron could do it, surely you could find a way. And third… If stolen angel grace restored him to angel status before, maybe it would work again—like changing batteries. You didn't like the thought, but you also didn't like most angels. It wasn't even a question in your mind. You would be willing to start killing angels to give Cass more time.

Deep down, you knew that Castiel would refuse the last solution. He always wanted to protect you and keep you off of the angels' radar. A human killing angels would only draw attention, probably quickly. He'd put the angel warding on your ribs, but he was never too worried about angels finding you. Castiel once admitted that one of the reasons that he'd been so initially puzzled by you was that neither he nor any other angel had any knowledge of your existence.

THEN

"I don't understand how a human could go unnoticed for so long… You are truly an anomaly, Y/N."

You leaned against the Impala. You had a few minutes before Sam and Dean finished questioning the witness. "Cass, I stopped praying around the time my mom died. I'm not an anomaly, I'm just not broadcasting on angel radio. And before that, you guys didn't notice the pleas of a little girl or you didn't care. Either way, it doesn't matter."

Castiel furrowed his brows. "You stopped praying. Why?"

You cast a pointed glance at Castiel. "I think you can put together a few reasons. Why would I keep asking someone to help me when I know no one's listening?" You shook your head. "Religion, believing that there was a God to catch you when you fall… That's not really worked out for me."

Castiel nodded, but you weren't completely sure he understood.

"Did you see the time I came home with a concussion?" You were willing to talk about this one memory to help illustrate your point.

"No, I don't believe so." Castiel squinted as he tried to remember.

You sighed as you realized what you had to do. Insecurity began to claw at your chest and you worked to tame it. "That memory _only_. Nothing else."

Castiel shifted his stance and glanced around. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"Yes." You focused you energy on not curling in on yourself and tried to look confident instead. "Take a look, Cass."

He gently pressed two fingers to your forehead as you concentrated on what you remembered from that night. Castiel stepped back after a moment and you watched him run a hand through his hair. He turned away from you and you knew it was because he couldn't hide his emotions, not this time.

You jutted out your chin. You summoned all of your strength because the last thing you wanted was his pity. "What did you see?"

"Y/N…"

"Tell me what you saw. I know you know what happened. You _felt_ it. You wouldn't act this way otherwise."

Castiel finally turned around to face you. He tried to put on a mask of compassion, but it wasn't working. He was too upset. "You were still very young and you were injured in some sort of game—I think. Something struck you in the head. You were in a great amount of pain. A woman brought you back to your home." Castiel squinted as he attempted to figure out the next sequence of events.

"Don't worry, that night's a little spotty for me too. Keep going. What's the next thing you saw?" You dug your toe into the ground as you spoke. You pushed harder into the dirt until a little cramp started in the bottom of your foot and grounded you.

"The woman brought you inside and she spoke with your father before she left. Your memories are fragmented, I'm sorry." Castiel was holding back. He was avoiding the part that upset him the most.

"What did my dad do, Cass? Did he take me to a hospital?" You prompted him even though you both knew the answer.

"Your father did nothing. He did not take you to see a doctor. Your father drank that night and took pleasure from your pain as he watched you laying on the couch. He eventually became… agitated and ordered you to go to your room. You fell on the stairs and received further injury." Castiel stood next to you and leaned on the car as well. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he momentarily tried to avoid making eye contact.

"Keep going." Your voice came out as a whisper.

Cass let out a deep sigh, his forehead wrinkling in a combination of pain, guilt, and pity. _There it is…_ "Your father laughed and he spoke to you. He told you that your guardian angel was punishing you. He told you that this is what happens to daughters that disobey and talk back to their fathers."

You nearly mouthed the words as Castiel said them. "Are you starting to get the picture now? I'm not an anomaly. I'm nothing special, I just stopped believing in something that wasn't there."

Castiel gave you a pained look. He placed a hand on the top of your head before you could stop him and his eyes flashed with a brilliant blue light.

"Cass!" You pulled away quickly. "What did you do?"

Castiel looked down and began to study the ground. "You were left with some lasting damage. I believe it is the source of the tremor in your hands that you experience when you are ill or sleep deprived. The tremor would've only gotten worse in time. The injury could have had other effects as well." He looked up at you. "I thought it best to heal you."

You blinked at his words, unsure of whether to thank him or ask how he knew about the hand tremors. Cass tried to understand you, he'd even healed you. _I suppose it's his way of saying he's sorry about my crappy life without actually saying it._ You settled on a simple thank you. "Same rules as before. You can't tell them."

Castiel nodded and you moved back to where you had been standing. The both of you stood next to each other in silence as you waited for Sam and Dean. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, it was more like an understanding.

NOW

You eyed the angel blade that you had in your duffle bag. Now that the pearly gates were open and heaven was back in business, angels wouldn't be as easy to find. After a year of life on Earth among humans—many of them had never even left heaven before—they were probably desperate to get back to the mothership. But this was a last resort.

You turned on some music as you began pulling spell books from the shelves. It would help you stay awake and keep working. Luckily for you, you had a head start on lore before you'd even started hunting…

 **AN: Thanks for reading. Reviews are love. As stated before, I'm taking suggestions so let me know what you want to see. It just might appear.**


	9. Chapter 8

**AN: I'm sorry for the long delay. Finals ate up quite a bit of my time to write. This is the longest chapter yet so your patience has been rewarded. Thanks to all of the people following and reviewing.** **And as always, thank you peddlergirl. You know what you did.**

 **This chapter begins with a memory.**

THEN…

You had dealt with everything your father put you through. The abuse. The neglect. Over the last few months though, you thought things might actually start to get better. Life was far from good, but the mind games and abuse had stopped.

You'd found a boy you liked at school. He asked you out and it wasn't long before you were a couple. Brandon was the first taste of normal you had in a long time. Later, you realized that you missed the signs of a controlling boyfriend because he simply wasn't as bad as Dad. But with everything being relative, things felt stable to you.

You invited Brandon to dinner one night to meet Dad. It was a big deal, you _never_ invited people over. For once, you just wanted to believe you had a relatively normal family. You wanted to be a normal teenage girl bringing a boy home to meet her dad. It didn't seem like an unrealistic desire now. The goal was to keep it simple, some pizza, ice cream, and small talk. But when Dad started drinking during dinner, you started to get worried.

Things were going alright, though, all things considered. Dad was drunk, but at least he was getting along with Brandon. You smiled as you did the dishes. It felt like you'd successfully made it through the evening. But your dad decided to change the topic of conversation. His statements sent your world crashing down around you.

Dad pulled Brandon closer and spoke to him in what he thought was a whisper. He began to give Brandon tips on how to get you into bed—all based on if you were anything like your mother. You froze. He smiled and briefly glanced at you as the blood drained from your face and nausea rose. Brandon at least had the decency to look shocked. Dad continued to spew forth sex tips and you ran for the bathroom.

You learned two things that night. First, pepperoni pizza was not good the second time around. Second, the reason Dad had stopped being so abusive. Given how drunk he was, these weren't spontaneous thoughts. He'd thought about this before.

Another wave of vomiting hit. You realized that you couldn't stay here anymore.

You tried to apologize to Brandon after nearly prying your dad away from him. It came out poorly. Nothing you could say would make any of this right. Staying with Brandon would be too awkward for a while so you worked on another plan. You didn't have a ton of friends and running to Aunt Sarah so suddenly would cause more scrutiny than you wanted.

You decided to call Ashley. The two of you weren't bff's, but her parents were pretty relaxed and she wouldn't have a problem with you staying until you could figure something else out.

That night, you packed a few bags and took Mom's old car. Dad had signed it over to you as a present for your sixteenth birthday. And so began your life of alternating between couch surfing and homelessness.

You tried staying with Brandon for little bit after moving on from Ashley's house. It didn't last long. He wanted to have sex one night while his parents were away. It seemed like a good idea. It felt like a great idea—until he decided to try taking one of Dad's tips. If he had stopped taking your dad's advice, you would have stayed. But he didn't.

He knew about your life. He fucking _knew_ how you felt about Dad, about everything... Brandon didn't care about how you felt. You realized that Brandon only cared about Brandon. He was only interested in another notch in his bedpost tonight. You left repulsed, screaming obscenities at him. You'd take your chances sleeping in the car until you found some place new rather than stay one more minute with him.

Continually moving from couch to couch became a way of life for you as you worked your way through school and tried to save money in the hopes that you might get to go to college. If college didn't work out, then you'd have money for an apartment at least.

You eventually achieved a semi-reliable rotation of friends to stay with. Staying with Emily every other weekend provided some unique opportunities. Emily's family lived just outside of town. Emily's dad liked to take his kids hunting.

After a few months, you were spending almost every weekend there. You sustained the illusion of living at home and managed to keep your friend in the dark. Neither she nor her family ever suspected that something was different about you. You loved Emily and you would keep her as far away from the ugly truth as possible. As time went by, you convinced her to teach you how to shoot a gun. Because she lived on the outskirts, shooting in her enormous backyard was perfectly legal.

You started out at close range with bottles and moved them out further as you got better. An idea had formed in your head and you became obsessed with becoming better. Becoming deadly at seventy yards was when you finally allowed yourself to feel pride in how far you'd come. After a while, you reached the opposite end of the property and were still hitting the bottles. Instead of simply hitting the bottles, you focused on how many times you could shoot the same one. If you hit the bottleneck first, you could usually get in one or two more shots on the same bottle.

On graduation day, you picked up your diploma with pride despite the echoing silence in the auditorium when your name was called. There was only one way you wanted to celebrate both graduation and getting into college. You were eighteen now, determined to shut the door on your old life completely. You drove towards your old neighborhood, full of focus. Freebird started playing on the radio as you parked the car and stepped outside.

The bastard was sitting out on the back porch, drinking and smoking just like you'd expected. Old habits died hard. You were hidden in the tree line across the retention pond with a rifle you'd managed to purchase through less-than-legal means. You tested it a few times at Emily's—she assumed that it belonged to your family—and it was a reliable weapon. The cartridge was full, but you knew that it wouldn't take ten shots. You decided one was best. You didn't want to get caught and he wasn't worth the extra bullets.

The sights lined up as you aimed for his heart—or the spot where it should be. You squeezed the trigger and it felt as easy as breathing. The kick felt more like a gentle nudge as you watched him fall back into the chair. You stood and waited a few moments. You were relatively certain you'd hit the mark, but you wanted to be sure. The good die young, bastards live forever. He stayed down and something inside of you _knew_ he was dead.

A weight seemed to lift away. You searched for the shell until you found it a couple feet away to your right. You left after retrieving it. You were already driving away before the guitar solo was over.

It was clean. The police never caught the shooter and put it down as a stray bullet or random violence. You kept the shell and turned it into a keychain as a memento.

NOW

The last day or so had passed just as the day before had. The hours dragged on as you spent your time frantically researching ways to help Cass while fighting off sleep. You lost that fight a few times and nightmares continued to stalk you as you pushed yourself forward.

It was just so goddamn frustrating. The Men of Letters had more research on how to kill witches than on spells or how one might become a witch. It still provided a lot of material for you to filter through, but you were getting the sense that you were on a wild goose chase. The next resort would be going on the internet to research witchcraft and that could be dicey at best without solid lore and research to back up what you found.

Your head was throbbing with the beginnings of a migraine that you'd been trying to ignore. You swayed on your feet as you walked back to your room. There were some painkillers in your drawer. You took a couple and regretted dry swallowing them as you felt them slide uncomfortably down your throat.

Hoping a change of environment might help, you set up to study in your room for a while. Books, music, notes. You went to turn on the music you'd been listening to, a playlist of Dean's favorite songs. But your mood had gradually switched as his favorite songs caused you to sink further into yourself. Instead, you started playing music from your old playlists… You'd worked for about an hour before your phone sprang to life with Sam's ringtone and face appearing onscreen.

You hadn't heard from him since before he said he was going to meet with the sheriff and you were starting to feel a little worried now. You'd told yourself that he had until tonight to check in before you let yourself imagine all of the reasons why he would miss a check in. That didn't stop you from imagining those things anyway, but it helped you reel those thoughts back in just a little bit. You had no way of knowing what Sam was about to tell you, though.

"Sam! You missed check in. I was starting to get worried." You listened for any sign that something was amiss.

"Hey, Y/N." Sam sounded exhausted. It was barely the middle of the day. The first red flag went up in your brain. "I just wanted to call and let you know that I tracked Dean down to a Gas n' Sip in Amherst Junction yesterday, but he's long gone now. The demon that attacked Dean dropped his cell phone. I went through the recent calls and texts. You'll never guess who tipped him off."

"I was wondering why a demon would attack Dean. What did you find out?" That puzzle still hadn't come together for you.

"I called the number. It was Crowley, Y/N."

"What!?" You stood up suddenly. That made absolutely no sense.

"Yeah, I know. I managed to trace Crowley's cell phone to a place called The Black Spur in Beulah, North Dakota. The street address is 156 Knife River Road. I'm headed there right after I call Castiel. I'm hoping he can back me up on this." Sam's voice sounded like sandpaper and sent up a second red flag.

You fought the frustration you felt at not being able to leave the bunker. You knew there was no way Cass was in any shape to fight. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Sam. Cass… He's seen better days." You felt a pang in your chest for the angel.

"Well, it's an all hands on deck situation, Y/N." Sam spoke without really thinking.

There was a long, palpable silence. "All hands on deck huh? Wow, Sam. I have to stay benched in the bunker but Cass—Cass is in good enough shape to play?" You couldn't keep the edge of anger out of your voice.

"Y/N… It's not—I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Sam's tone softened and you could almost see him hanging his head in guilt. "You're not benched. I need you to keep tabs on the police reports in case they hit the road again."

It was a nice try on Sam's part, but you could smell the bullshit a mile away. "Yeah, whatever Sammy." You rubbed at the back of your neck. Getting in an argument with Sam was the last thing on your to do list right now. "Long night Sam? You don't sound so hot. Why'd you miss check in anyway?"

Sam let out a long sigh. "I ran into an old acquaintance of Dean's apparently."

You really didn't like the tone of Sam's voice. You could tell when he was hiding something. Red flag number three. Something was up. "Acquaintance?"

"Yeah. Uh, it looks like Dean went on a hunt—probably while I was in college—anyway, there was a family involved. Whatever it was, it had something to do with the dad. One of the kids, his son, came downstairs just in time to see Dean kill his father. Long story short, that kid is grown up now. He's not letting this one go."

Alarm bells went off in full force. You bit back at the fear and dread you started to feel in your gut. "Sammy, tell me everything that happened."

"Y/N, don't worry about me right now. I—"

"Sam." You turned his name into a command and a plea at the same time.

"Alright… The guy fucked with my car and caught me with my guard down. He got the drop on me. He took me to an abandoned building and started—" Sam stopped himself and began again. "The guy was after Dean and wanted to use me as leverage. He called Dean, but Dean wasn't interested in dealing with him. I got myself out pretty soon after that."

" _Jesus_ …" You were breathless. This family had the worst fucking luck. "Sammy, tell me—did he hurt you?" You were only greeted with silence from Sam and you frowned. "How bad is it Sam? Be honest or I swear I'll find a way to drag your ass back here."

"Cuts, bruises, and some swelling. My head hurts. I don't think anything is broken though." He tried to sound upbeat and dismiss his injuries.

"Sam, stop back at the bunker and pick me up. You're in bad shape and so is Cass. You're going to need all the help you can get and me just being low on sleep puts me miles ahead of the two of you."

"No, Y/N. It's too far out of the way and I'm not going to put you in the line of fire." Sam's voice became adamant.

"But Sam—"

"No, Y/N. Look, I've gotta get a move on. Keep tabs on the equipment and be ready for when I get Dean back to the bunker. I'm thinking it's best if we do try to fix Dean in the dungeon with all the warding. It would really help if you could get the room set up." Sam was trying to pacify you with the safe jobs so you wouldn't feel useless. The demon dungeon was _always_ set up. The modifications for Dean would be minimal.

"Fine. I'll do it. It's not like my thoughts are going to change anything." You couldn't stop some of your frustration from surfacing. "Bye, Sam." You ended the call and let the phone drop onto the bed as you let out an exasperated sigh.

You _hated_ feeling so useless. You'd lived much of your life in situations you had no choice or control over. It was its own type of captivity without chains or locks. You struggled to breathe for a moment as the claustrophobic weight of everything pressed in around you. Heroes had switched to Dustland Fairytale as you were lost in your own spiraling thoughts and feelings.

The sting and slice of pain briefly surprised you on some level, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. You'd started digging your nails into your palms as you made a fist. The brief pain gave you something to focus on and ground yourself with as you took a deep breath.

The walls of your mind were still closing in on you though. You needed to run, to get out and just _escape._ But even if Sam hadn't taken your keys, even if you weren't so anxious about Sam finding Dean or Castiel gradually fading away, you had nowhere to go. It's not like that had ever stopped you from running before. You usually managed figure out your destination in transit. But this would be futile. You knew that no matter how far and fast you ran, you could never leave Sam, Cass, and Dean. They were your family now, the best family you'd ever had. You couldn't bring yourself to indulge your urge to run and abandon them as casualties to your desire to escape. They deserved better. And life without them… it would ultimately destroy you.

So you sat on the bed holding the only other escape you knew. The sharp edge of the knife teased against the edge of your finger as you stared at it. You frowned as you realized how much you had taken from your hips already. The cuts over the last few days were sloppy and amateur. They reflected your desperation more than anything. Many of them ran too long and far too deep, they would take time to heal.

You opted to move down your leg rather than up. This time, you would work slowly. You could already feel a sense of calm cutting through everything. Two slices. You created delicate lines that raised red welts and didn't draw blood. You drew in a deep breath as you felt the familiar sting that took you away from feelings of futility, depression, and fear.

At this point you were mesmerized—beginning to finally feel disconnected from everything. You moved to make a third cut before the calm you felt quickly disappeared as a voice echoed in the room.

" _Stop."_ Dean's voice was pained and held an edge of sadness.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and a thousand emotions began to wash over you. You were breathless as you quickly looked up. The knife dropped from your limp fingers and crashed onto the floor. Frantically, your eyes scanned the room only to find it empty. You desperately lurched out into the hallway.

"Dean…?" Your voice was a mix of hope and fear.

But you quickly realized that there was nothing. He wasn't here, he couldn't be. The only reason his voice had sounded so clear was because it was in your head.

The feeling of Dean's absence and the realization that you were probably going insane were at odds with each other. You were a mess of limbs on the floor as your body shook from alternating sobs and laughter. Out of everything— _everything—_ this is what would break you.

THEN

You got the call from Andy. Your youngest cousin, Katie, was dead. Her roommate found her in the living room of their apartment. The police turned it into a homicide investigation when the autopsy showed that her lungs were filled with water. Katie had apparently drowned. There was no sign of forced entry. The cops opened a tip line, but there were no leads.

That's how you found yourself driving back to Sarah's house for the first time in a year. You'd visited occasionally, but it got harder as you tried to set up a life for yourself. Andy and your cousins had moved out and started their own lives as well. Everyone was coming back for the funeral. This would be the first time you were all together in years.

Katie was sweet and so full of life. Losing her was a steep price to pay for a family reunion. She was one of the best people you knew. She deserved to live a long, happy life. She deserved to graduate from college, get married, and have kids. Now, all of that was stolen from her.

Judging by the amount of vehicles surrounding the house, everyone was here. You parked down the road and checked your appearance in the car mirror. The family needed someone to be strong. You could do this for them. You would swallow your own pain and be there for everyone else. You poured some water out of a bottle and on to some discarded napkins. You cleaned up dried tears as you took some deep breaths. This was going to be a long week. You didn't look great, but it was good enough. You slid out of the car with your purse slung over your shoulder.

Sarah was on the phone and glanced up at you as you stepped inside. She was talking to Nick and you left her to the conversation. He would be home soon judging by what Sarah was saying. You entered the kitchen and checked the fridge. There would be at least six people staying here and everyone needed to eat. You frowned when you saw how sparse it was. No friends or neighbors had delivered food and Sarah desperately needed groceries. You made a mental note to order in tonight and go shopping tomorrow.

Rebecca shuffled in her pajamas. Her eyes were distant and red from crying. "Y/N?"

"Hey, Rebecca." You spoke softly and gave her a hug that she weakly returned. "I was just going to order something for dinner. Is there anything you want?"

"Not hungry." She mumbled and walked away from you to grab a box of tissues from the cabinet.

"You need to eat." You sighed and furrowed your brows in concern. "Just name it and I'll make a special trip. Just for you." You brightened your tone in an attempt to get a response from her. Her gaze nearly shattered you as she turned around. Her eyes seemed so empty of life and her posture screamed resignation. Rebecca continued to just stare at you and for a moment, you thought you were looking at a ghost of yourself.

You knew that look. They were the same eyes that glimpsed at you in the mirror when the horrors of everything you'd experienced were too much to bear. The same eyes that were reflected back at you in pocket knives. Rebecca was walking on the edge of a cliff that you knew spilled into a deep, dark ravine. You should know, you lived there. _Oh no you don't, Becca._

"Rebecca…" You kept your tone gentle and soft as you approached her. "Katie's gone. And—and it's terrible. I know. I know how death can tear and rip at a heart. Especially when it's someone as amazing as she was." You had to stop and regain control of your emotions. You couldn't lose your cool while trying to talk to Rebecca now. "It's ok to have that feeling—the suffocating depression and sadness—but you need to find a way to fight it so you can keep living your life. Katie would want you to have a life, Rebecca. She loved laughing with you and seeing you smile. Your little sister _idolized_ you and she would have done anything to keep you from feeling this pain. So please, think of something you want to eat. Start small and work your way up from there."

Rebecca was still silent and staring at you. You were scared that your words hadn't phased her until she finally spoke to you in a raspy voice. "Katie liked the ramen shop in town."

You nodded. "I remember. She liked that really spicy bowl with the pork and egg in it. She always dumped a ton of extra chili oil in it to make it spicier."

Hope filled her eyes. "Pick up a bowl for me?"

"Sure thing, Becca." You smiled at her as she left the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, you doubled over and wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as you fought your own urge to break down and sob. Your body shook and you dug your nails into your sides as your mouth widened in a silent scream. _Not now. Get the fuck through this. You need to be there for them._

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and startled you. You instinctively tried to move away and swatted at them. They only held you tighter until you lost the energy to fight and accepted defeat. He hadn't caught you unhinged more than three times before this, but it was enough for you to recognize who was holding you. Andy never asked why you were the way you were or about what set you off. Each time he'd found you, it was either obvious or something that was clearly not up for discussion. You felt a sting of failure for not being able to shield him from yourself, and now it had happened again. At least you were conscious. You weren't covered in your own blood this time either. This was far from the worst condition he'd seen you in.

After you were still for a few minutes, you heard his low and gentle voice. "Better now?"

You drew in a deep sigh and nodded. His vice grip around you relaxed hesitantly as if he were afraid to let you go. "I'm fine. Sorry you had to see that, Andy."

He had gotten so tall now, it seemed odd sometimes when you thought about the little boy you'd given up your future for. You looked up just in time to see him mask the pain he was feeling. His expression shifted to doubt as he kept his hands on your shoulders.

"I promise." You gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

"Y/N…" He didn't believe you. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't about to show him anymore than what he'd already seen.

"I'm going to pick up some ramen. There's a BBQ place next door, which one do you want?" You tried to shake off his concern.

His expression faltered as he tried to decide whether to push you further or to let the topic drop. Andy finally let out a sigh before answering you. "Whatever is easiest, Y/N. You don't have to worry about me." Andy gave you a smile in an attempt to cheer you up. He was getting better at seeing through you and you weren't sure that was such a good thing for him. "Nobody's going to get upset with you over food. Just order a good variety and everyone will be happy."

You shrugged. "I don't mind getting everyone's order, I just want to help."

"I'm just happy you're here. It's good to see you." Andy knew that you never quite felt like you belonged at Sarah's house. He told you that it was totally imaginary and that you were welcome any time.

You knew you were welcome, but this was Andy's domain. This was the family that you had given him and you were afraid that your presence would ruin it somehow. You'd also convinced yourself that you weren't worthy of having a family like this. That's why you never asked for anything when you visited, why you were always extra polite and tried to go the extra mile.

"Andy, I—" The sound of the front door opening distracted you, cutting you off. "I guess that's Nick."

"Nick and Galene. He's engaged now." Andy smiled at you, happy to be able to give you some good news.

"Really? What's she like?" You couldn't help feeling a little bit excited. You were gaining another cousin. Andy would gain another sister.

Andy shrugged. "I've only met her a few times. She seems smart. She likes karaoke, but she's normally quiet. If you ask me, she's way too beautiful to be with Nick." He chuckled. "Go introduce yourself if you want to meet her."

You walked into the living room. Galene was slightly shorter than Nick, but still tall for a girl. Her blonde hair was slightly wavy and fell just below her shoulders. Her green eyes were as bright as gemstones. Andy was right, Nick was out of his league.

You walked towards her to shake her hand. "You must be Galene. I'm Y/N."

She smiled warmly at you. "It's a nice to finally meet you."

A tall, lanky man appeared behind Galene and you looked to Andy. Andy returned your confused gaze. He didn't know this guy either. You instinctively stepped back towards him.

"This is my brother, Nerites. I call him Neri for short." Galene wrapped an arm around her brother. He was as handsome as she was beautiful. Their parents must've been models, you were convinced.

Nerites sounded oddly familiar to you, though. It wasn't a common name, but you were sure you'd heard it somewhere before. You tried to remember if perhaps you had gone to high school with him. This was one of those puzzles that was going to bother you.

"Hi, everyone." Nerites gave a half smile and waved before turning to Galene. "This is everyone, right?" He looked around the room. Rebecca was now sitting next to Sarah and Uncle Mark was in his recliner.

Galene's expression shifted and you weren't sure you liked it. "Yeah Neri, this is everyone." Something about her smile felt off.

It only unsettled you more when Nerites mirrored her smile. "Good. Whenever you're ready, sis."

Nick looked puzzled. "Do you two have some sort of announcement?"

"You could say that." Galene snapped at Nick unexpectedly. "I know about your weekend in Las Angeles. I know about Heather."

Nick's face grew pale and he looked like he was about to throw up. "Galene… Can we talk about this in private?"

"No! The wedding's off Nick." Rage washed over her. "She really was pretty. I hope she was worth it. Although, I can't say she thought that about you for sure. Her screams made it a little hard to tell." She looked at Nick with malice.

You ran her last statement through your mind again. _Did she really just say screams?_

The next few moments were quick, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. You couldn't move as you watched in horror as Sarah and Mark began choking and spitting up water. You tried to run and help. You tried screaming even. But some force kept your body frozen.

"Let's get rid of these two shall we?" Nerites had his hand extended outward. "You've wronged my sister and now she's doomed to suffer until the day she dies." He looked at Nick. "I'll spare your parents with a quick death, but you will watch each of your siblings suffer and die." His expression was full of hate and venom.

After an eternity, Sarah and Mark were laying on the floor. Their lips were blue and their hands were reaching towards one another. You would never forget the sound of them dying and choking. You would never forget being helpless to stop it.

Rage burned deep inside of you. You remembered what the police said about Katie. This fucking bastard killed her.

Nerites walked up to you. His eyebrow was arched in fascination. "This one seems to have figured it out already. Clever girl. Shall I return her voice so we can see if she's put all the pieces together?"

Galene spared you a brief glance. Her focus was mainly on Nick. "Do as you wish with that one."

Your voice came out in a brief scream before you reigned it in to speak. "You killed Katie."

"Very good. Why did I kill her?" He toyed with a strand of your hair.

You thought frantically for a moment. His name was so familiar… Then you placed it. "Nerites… I couldn't remember where I'd heard your name before. You're a Greek deity." You paused. If you remembered correctly, Nerites had fifty badass sisters. They were the inspiration for modern mermaids, sirens, and water nymphs. "She's an ondine… Nick, YOU IDIOT! You managed to get an ondine to fall in love with you and now we're all fucked because you couldn't keep it in your pants!" Your voice cut out again.

"That's right. I had to get revenge for Galene. Katie was on the list and a funeral would draw everyone to one spot. It's why I'm going to kill all of you while he watches."

Galene looked at you disinterestedly. "Accept her as a gift, Neri. I don't want her."

"Is she not his sister?" Nerites looked at Nick, Rebecca, and finally Andy. "Odd… Those two lack the love that this one has for her, yet they all love him as a brother."

Nerites was focused on Andy and your anger intensified as he triggered your protective instincts.

"She is not immediate family." Galene was pulling knives out of her purse. "This family took in her brother when their mother died. He was raised among them."

"Funny… I wonder what's wrong with her." Nerites was fascinated with you now. It didn't take a genius to realize that he could pick up on strong thoughts and feelings. You directed all of your fury at him. "Oh wow... Galene, it's truly a shame that you're powerless now. The anger I just felt from these two… I haven't felt anything like it since I dated that erinys."

Galene rolled her eyes. "You can play all you want while I'm getting my revenge. Bind him to my will so we can get on with it."

"Of course, Galene." His voice was gentle as he addressed her. Nerites turned to Nick and was again full of wrath. "Galene was the kindest and gentlest of all my sisters. After thousands of years, she found a man that she loved. She rose from the sea for you. She gave up eternity, her powers, and her home for _you._ You are unworthy. Because of you, she will now die soulless and disappear into nothing. I grant her voice the power to bind you until the day you die—which will probably be very soon. He's all yours."

As Nerites released his hold on Nick, he lurched forward before running for the door. Part of you hoped he would escape and get help, another part of you wished he was dead for being a cheating coward. Galene spoke and he froze. "You will sit and you will watch. You will not move and you will not speak during any of this." You watched Nick move slowly and sit down on the loveseat. "Good boy. Now who shall be first?"

"This one." Nerites turned towards Rebecca. "Her thoughts are scattered and she has already resigned to her fate. She bores me."

"Very well. Nothing personal, Becca. Return her voice. I want Nick to hear her scream, Neri." Galene grabbed a knife and began running it along Nick's skin before making a small cut under his eye.

"Please—please just let us go…" You could hear Rebecca crying out of your view. Nerites took his time with her. He started drowning her until she was nearly unconscious while Galene tortured Nick. Time stretched on and Rebecca started begging for death. You couldn't block it out and it felt like it would never end. Your mind went to dark places. Nerites must've finally gotten bored because you couldn't hear her anymore. None of the begging, no gasping, and none of the horrible choking.

Nick was bloody and completely motionless. Galene looked bored and began running a knife over a lighter. "Good idea, Neri. It's about time we changed things up."

Nerites walked towards you and your brother. He cocked his head sideways as he figured out what he wanted to do next.

"Are you going to kill her?" Galene looked at you and spoke as if she was bored. "Or will you be moving on to the other one?"

"I haven't decided yet." He squinted at you and you felt fear for a moment as your first memory came rushing to your mind. "The water has already claimed you once."

Your eyes widened as you realized that you let that thought slip.

"Answer me." His tone was commanding.

"Yes." Your voice was back and you were forced to obey him.

"No wonder you draw me in. Clever, beautiful, drowned girl... Maybe I'll keep you as a pet." He smiled and ran a finger along your cheek.

"Fuck you." You snarled at him. You hoped that you could make him angry. If he got angry enough, he might just focus on you instead of Andy and kill you first. You would give your life to buy time for your brother. "You might as well kill me now. You're _nothing_. Nothing but a lobster with an ego. You needed daddy to change you back if the stories are true." You sneered.

"Or maybe I'll turn you into seafoam." Nerites pressed his face closer to yours, invading any sense of personal space. "Either way, say good bye to your brother. He's not long for this world." Nerites turned you to face Andy. He must've seen through the ruse. Fear began to crawl up your spine.

"No! Let him go you bastard!" You had no idea what he would do to your brother, but it couldn't be good. He ignored you and Andy dropped to his knees just out of your reach. "Andy! ANDY!" You let out a string of obscenities. "You motherfucker! Let him go. I'll be your fucking pet, just let Andy go." You pleaded desperately for Andy's life.

"Touching, but no." He didn't even look back at you. You heard a sizzle and smelled something burning. Your stomach flipped as you realized it was Nick's skin as Galene began a new form of torture.

"Andy! Andrew, look at me! Hang on, you have to fight! I'll think of a way to get us out of this." Words and promises were spilling out of your mouth. You had to save him. You had to make this right.

Nerites started laughing. "Now there's an interesting thought. You think that you could defeat me even if I _do_ release you?"

Andy gasped for air and you shot a deadly glance at the sea god.

"Shall we play a game then? If you win, you and Andy will go free." You tried to look at Nick. "Sorry, he belongs to my sister. If I win, then we resume our evening and you will belong to me. _Forever_."

"What are the rules?" You didn't have too much of a problem leaving Nick behind if it meant saving your brother.

"The game is easy. You have until he dies to kill me and save everyone."

You fell to the floor as you were unfrozen. Andy looked at you with frantic eyes. He was already drowning again. The sound of him choking and spitting up water made you sick. You fought the urge to hold and comfort him, you didn't have much time.

 _How do I fucking kill a god?_ You scrambled and tried to remember everything from the lore you'd read as a kid. You hit him with anything you could find to buy time as you tried to think.

First, you stabbed him in the heart with the iron fire poker. He barely batted an eye as he yawned and said, "Boring." Then, there were Galene's knives that she had left scattered around her. They seemed ordinary, but you'd hoped there would be something extraordinary about them as you plunged one into his back. You cursed yourself for leaving your gun in the glovebox. You doubted it would work, but it would've felt satisfying. _Think, Y/N. THINK!_ He was from the sea so salt would be useless. Silver had potential to wound him but you doubted that your aunt had any. You needed something strong and pure. Something that was primal, elemental.

The lighter flicked again and the flame gave you an idea. Nerites was associated with shellfish. _Electricity and heat._ A simple lighter wouldn't do the trick, this would require more. It was a long shot, but Andy was on the floor and he wasn't moving. You ran for your purse and drew your taser. Nerites was cocky. He stopped paying attention to your efforts in his overconfidence.

You fired at him and hit your mark. He dropped to the ground, writhing. The bastard wasn't dead, but you slowed him down and broke his concentration. You ran to Andy and began CPR. His lips were blue and he wasn't breathing but he still had a sluggish pulse.

"You fucking bitch! That's my brother!" Galene was trying to tear you away from Andy. Her nails and fists dug into you as she screamed. The glint of a knife caught your eye and you threw yourself to the side. You watched in horror as she looked down at Andy and smiled before plunging one of her knives into his chest slowly.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" You launched yourself at her, full of fury and recklessness. Galene had a second knife and the advantage. She'd counted on your attack and dodged, throwing you off balance. It was all you could do to try and avoid her now.

Nerites was stirring and trying to groaning as Galene continued to come after you. You were covered in scratches and bruises from her fighting. The rule about girl fights was true in this case. There wouldn't be a winner or a loser, only a survivor. Galene lunged for your heart as two gunshots rang out. The knife plunged in to your shoulder as she fell forward, missing the mark and you let out a scream of agony.

You felt a hand wrap around your opposite forearm and you were being pulled away. Biting back against the pain, you turned to see a strange guy with short hair in a leather jacket and you tried to fight him off. You had to get back to Andy. He could still survive.

"Let me go! He still had a pulse, I have to go back for him." You drove your heels into the floor and pulled against him as he tried to drag you away.

"There's no time! Look at the knife, he's gone. We have to get out of here before Nerites is able to use his powers again." The man's words threw you for a loop. _How could he know what's going on?_

"Who the fuck are you?!" You looked at him with suspicion and stopped fighting a little as he continued to pull you away from the scene and out of the house.

"My name's Dean and I'm the guy saving your ass. NOW RUN!" He pulled on your arm harder and you knew you couldn't put up a fight against him. You stood no chance alone against a god, but maybe this guy had something up his sleeve.

You were out on the lawn and running towards a taller man with long hair. He had a weapon aimed behind you and you briefly wondered if he was some kind of backup. "So what's the plan hot shot?!"

He didn't answer as you approached the taller man. "Sam! Take her and get to the car!" Dean threw you into the man's arms and raced ahead.

"Let's go!" The new guy—Sam didn't spare you a glance and you were running again towards a black car in the distance.

"What's he doing?!"

"We need to light this bastard up. Grenade launcher."

 _Grenade launcher…? Are they fucking serious?_

Dean was yelling for you to hurry and you could see the god's form behind you. The Sam opened the door as Dean fired. There was a loud explosion and the area erupted into flames. You were ushered into the backseat and you heard two more loud booms.

Dean jumped into the driver's seat and the Sam climbed in beside him. The tires kicked up dirt and gravel as he sped away. They were both anxiously watching the flaming scene disappear in the distance. You were slumped in the backseat as exhaustion threatened to overcome you. The edges of your vision were darkening as adrenaline wore off.

The Sam's eyes flashed to you in concern. He reached out and touched your shoulder. There was something dark and shiny on them as he rubbed his fingers together. "Dean. Stop the car." His voice was full of urgency.

"Not yet Sammy. We need to get more distance." Dean's voiced felt like a force with no room for resistance or negotiation.

Everything felt fuzzy. It was as if all the energy was draining out of you. Your awareness went in and out.

"If… bleed out…" Sam's voice came in snippets.

"Damnit." You heard Dean hiss and he glanced at you in the mirror.

You were vaguely aware of the fact that you'd fallen to your side on the bench seats. You blacked out.

"Hey… Hey!" Dean's face was above you. Sam was wrapping a bandage around your shoulder. "Stay with me. What's your name?"

You were so tired and everything hurt. You weren't sure you could remember your name. Instead, you were focused on his eyes. You were thinking about how beautiful they were as you lost consciousness again.

You woke up in a motel room. The two men were instantly on their feet when your movement caught their attention.

"Hey, easy there. Don't rip your stitches." The big one sat on the edge of your bed. Sam. Dean had called him Sam.

"You just fought a god and lived. Pretty tough if you ask me." Dean smiled at you. "I'm not sure what you remember so let's start over. I'm Dean Winchester. This is my brother, Sam."

"We patched you up after the hunt. I hope you didn't love that shirt." Sam chuckled and held out his hand.

You noted that you were now wearing a man's button up shirt. "I'm Y/N." You took Sam's hand.

"I got there just in time to see you use the taser from outside a window. That was smart." Dean never took his eyes off of you. "The bastard had the place sealed. You broke his hold long enough for me to break down a door and get inside."

"Thanks. How'd you know people were in danger?" These two were an enigma.

"We didn't. We were investigating the case of that drowned girl—uh…" Dean trailed off.

"Katie." Sam chimed in.

"Katie. We'd already questioned the family. Sam figured out that there was an ondine involved. But she didn't have her powers so it didn't make sense until we factored in big brother. We were coming to warn them." Dean nodded at you. "I wish we knew there was another hunter in town. This might've gone differently with three of us working together."

 _Hunter? As in ghost hunting?_

"Was your plan just to electrocute him?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

You sat there in shock for a moment, unsure of what they were talking about. "I uh… I thought—I'm not sure what I thought." You sighed.

Dean sat on the bed across from you and folded his hands. "You lost a lot of blood last night, it'll probably be foggy for a while." He frowned slightly. "You've got the battle scars. Sam and I couldn't help but notice while we were bandaging you up. Looks like you've been in the game for a while."

You remained silent and just looked at the two of them.

Sam shot a look at Dean. "What my brother's trying to say is that your tough and you obviously have experience. Would you like to work with us?"

They both looked at you expectantly. You didn't have anyone waiting for you out there and you'd just lost everything that ever mattered. With nothing left to lose, you made a choice. "What did you have in mind?"

The boys shared a look and smiled.

NOW

You didn't care. You let yourself slip into unconsciousness on the floor as exhaustion pulled you under. For once, thankfully, you weren't visited by relentless nightmares. Having a normal dream was like finding a unicorn. This peaceful darkness—the nothingness was the best you could've hoped for.

You woke up slowly. It must've been hours since you'd fallen asleep judging by how stiff and cramped you felt. There was a soft ping coming from inside of your room. You stood up shakily and grabbed your phone. Surprisingly, it had almost been eight hours and you had several missed calls and texts. _Shit_. You checked the texts first, reading what people wanted was always faster. Your phone sorted the conversations between contacts.

Sammy: Y/N. Got a big lead. Pick up the phone. 1:58 pm

Sammy: I know where Dean is. I'm going to bring him home. Please answer. 4:47

Sammy: I'm worried. I have to go. I'm calling Cass and telling him to go to the bunker. 7:05

Cass/Sammy: Sam says you're not picking up. Call us, Y/N. 7:19 pm

Cass/Sammy: Y/N, answer the phone. 7:55 pm

Cass/Sammy: Please, reply if you're ok. 8:23 pm

Cass: Y/N, I'm worried about you. 8:41 pm

Cass: I'm coming. 9:06 pm

You put off looking at this last text. _Fucking Crowley_. After the past few months, he was the last person you wanted to hear from ever again.

Fuckface: Sending you Dean's coordinates. Turns out I'd rather not have your sloppy seconds. Grab Moose and pick him up before he gets on my last nerve. Let your boyfriend know I want my friendship bracelet back. 1:50 pm

You stared at the message in shock. You didn't notice your hand was shaking until you nearly dropped the phone. _Dean._ Shock melted in to rage. You'd been gone less than a week. How dare he? _How FUCKING dare he?!_ Dean was not someone to be called sloppy seconds. Dean was not someone that you just abandoned. It made you furious that Crowley would just toss him aside. And the idea that his rejection was the only reason Dean was coming home made you sick.

"That bastard! Motherfuckingsonofabitch!" You began shouting a string of obscenities and kicked a chair over.

Cass had tried to call you five times and left three voicemails. Sam had called you four times and left a voicemail each time. Sam's voicemails were mostly about getting close to finding Dean and to call him back. Apparently, Crowley had called Sam too. His voice grew increasingly concerned as they went on.

Castiel's calls were more focused on you. The exhaustion and worry in the angel's voice broke your heart. You quickly dialed his number.

"Y/N! What happened? Are you alright?" Cass's voice was full of determination and concern. It was because of you and you felt a pang of guilt for making him worry. You heard the rush of air in the background. He was driving, probably speeding.

"I'm fine, Cass. I didn't mean to worry anyone. I just fell asleep." You still weren't feeling that great and you needed some time to get your shit together. You hoped Cass wouldn't see through your half-assed explanation.

A woman's voice murmured in the background and you couldn't make out what Cass had said to her in reply.

"Cass, who's with you?" You instantly began to worry. He hardly ever traveled with anyone other than you and the Winchesters. When he did, it rarely ended well for him.

There was a loud sigh. "There have been some rogue angels. Anna and I have been working to… resolve the situation. Listen, I'm on my way to the bunker—"

"Don't worry about me. And also, you should be resting. Doing a job is only going to wear you down faster." You furrowed your brows in concern. Wrangling angels was no joke. There was no way Cass was up for this. "Please, Cass."

"No. This is my mess, Y/N." He said it as if it made a difference to you.

"I don't care. That doesn't make it your responsibility." You swore that once you fixed him you would kick his feathered ass for being reckless. He always did this. He always blamed himself when things went wrong. He was always trying to fix things when it wasn't his job. No wonder Dean was his best friend.

"What about Dean? I should be there—" The previous exhaustion was coming back into his voice and it tore at your heart.

"Sam and I have a plan. Take your time and stop fighting angels." You were almost scolding him right now.

"Did you call Sam? He's worried."

"Not yet."

"Call him. He's got Dean."

Those words overrode everything else on your mind. "Will do. Drive safe, Cass."

Cass said good-bye and you quickly called Sam. Hope and anxiety twisted in your gut as the phone rang.

"Hello?" You wondered if Sam checked his caller ID.

"Hey… It's me, I just got off of the phone with Cass. I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you guys."

"Yeah, I can't really talk right now." Sam's speech was hurried and it clicked. He was trying to protect you from something.

You could suddenly hear Dean's voice in the background and your heart stopped. "C'mon Sam. Stop pretending that we both don't know who that is."

"Dean! You really found him? Put me on speaker Sammy, please." You were aware of how desperate you sounded, but you didn't give a shit.

Sam sighed and you heard a click as the acoustics changed. "I swear to God, Dean. If you threaten her—"

"You'll what? Lock me in the dungeon? Handcuff me?" Dean scoffed. "How've you been, sweetheart?"

"I'm alright. I miss you." You weren't seeing or hearing the demon, you were picturing _your_ Dean.

"Good." Dean's voice held a dark edge to it.

"How long until you guys make it back?" Just for a minute, it was easy to pretend everything was normal. You could pretend Sam and Dean were simply on their way back from a hunt.

"We're still a couple hours out. I'll take care of that thing we talked about." Sam's tone betrayed all the stress he was feeling.

"Just drive safe, ok? It's almost over. Relax, Sam."

You heard Sam take in a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah… It's just been a long day."

"It's been a long day for everyone. I feel you. And Dean?" You didn't want to say goodbye, but you needed to get cleaned up and put yourself together. It was going to be a rough ride until you found a way to cure Dean.

"Yeah?" His gruff voice was like music to your ears right now.

"I love you." You felt a ghost of a smile pull at your lips.

Dean laughed bitterly to himself for a moment before his angry voice rumbled in the background. "Just you wait Y/N, I told you—both of you—to let me go. I'm not the one that's gonna need saving. When I get ahold—"

Sam's voice was so rough as he interrupted his brother, it almost startled you. "That's it. You're done, Dean. Sorry, Y/N. We've gotta go. I'll see you in a couple hours."

The line went dead and you stood there, stunned. The fantasy image you were holding of Dean in your mind was just shattered by his attempt to threaten you over the phone. You hoped that things would get better once Sam arrived with him.

You showered and spent the next couple hours cleaning up the bunker. You'd neglected to pick up after yourself in favor of spending time looking for Dean and researching angel grace. You moved all the angel research into your room to continue later. _Hold on Cass. I'll get this figured out soon._

You heard the door open and ran towards the staircase. In this moment, right now, Dean's attempt to threaten you didn't cross your mind. You just wanted to see him. He was handcuffed and he looked terrible. You wanted nothing more than to hold him, to be the light that guided him back. His eyes, however, were cold and angry. You pushed down the fear and anxiety that gripped pierced your chest as he looked at you.

"Stay back, Y/N." Sam gave you a look. He could probably see that you were fighting with every fiber of your being not to wrap your arms around Dean. "Are the doors open?"

"Yeah. The dungeon is ready to go. I take it you'll be going out later?" You didn't want to openly discuss your plan in front of Dean. Not yet.

"Once we get him set up and I get a few hours of sleep, I'll get what we need." Sam's face gave nothing away. Damn, that must've been one hell of a car ride.

"Anyone want to clue me in?" Dean's low voice cut like a knife and you could feel the anger rolling off of him.

"No." You and Sam answered in unison. The short response from both of you was enough to send Dean back into silence.

Sam nudged Dean forward and they continued on their way. You let him handle Dean and waited in the kitchen. You knew you would be no match for Dean if he escaped and Sam wouldn't be able to handle him if he was worrying about you. Sam emerged a few minutes later. He finally let it show that he was carrying the weight of the world.

You stood and walked towards him. Sam tilted his head in confusion until you wrapped your arms tightly around him while avoiding his shoulder. "Thank you." You buried your face in his chest and you felt him wrap his good arm around you. "Thank you, Sammy. You found him and came back safe." Your most immediate worries about Dean and Sam's safety were gone now that they were home.

Sam's features softened, and he smiled at you with pride. "Hey, I keep my promises."

You pulled away slowly. "Can I make you something to eat? You've gotta be starving."

Sam shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I just need to sleep for a few hours. Do you think you could watch him on the monitor?"

"Monitor?" You squinted at Sam. _Why not just sit in the dungeon with Dean?_

"Y/N… I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with him." Sam was choosing his words carefully. There was something he wasn't saying and you almost didn't want to know what it was.

"Sam." You gave Sam the look you used when you wanted one of them to be straight with you.

He sighed. "You know he's not himself right now. I know how much you want to be with him, but I don't trust him around you right now. Please, just wait a few hours and we'll all have breakfast in the dungeon." Sam chuckled. "God our lives suck."

"You don't trust him around me? He's handcuffed in the middle of a devil's trap. What could he possibly do?" You attempted a smile to try and get Sam to drop his guard.

"I don't know. But after finding you in the motel room, I don't want to find out." A pained look swept over his face briefly. "There are two people in this world I've sworn to protect, Dean and you. Right now, I think the best way to protect both of you is to keep you from being alone together. So please, just for right now, do what I'm asking you to do." He was trying to use that puppy dog look on you. "Please, for me?"

You weren't going to win this one and Sam was barely upright. You sighed as you caved in to him. "Alright, I'll watch him on the monitor." You grabbed Sam's bags and wrapped an arm around his side. "Let's get you to bed before you collapse. There's no way I'll be able to get your giant ass off of the floor on my own." You grinned up at him.

"Thanks, Y/N." Sam let you lead him back towards his room.

 **AN: I wanted to at least get Dean home by the end of the chapter. Reviews are love and make me a better writer. Let me know what you think and what you want to see!**


	10. Chapter 9

Watching the monitor was physically easy. Mentally though, it was excruciating. Every once in a while, he would just look up at the camera and stare into it. Seeing him look so hurt while chained to that chair… it felt like your soul was slowly ripping apart.

Sam had asked you to stay away from Dean. He wouldn't do that without a good reason. So you buckled down and spent the hours buried in your thoughts, staring at the image of the love of your life. You were so deep in thought that you didn't hear Sam walk up behind you.

"Good morning." The low rumble of his voice startled you and you nearly fell out of the chair. "Easy there! Are you ok?" Sam held out a hand to steady you.

"Geez, Sammy. You scared the shit out of me." You took a moment to catch your breath. "I'm fine. Just a little lost in my own head."

Sam didn't like it when he caught you brooding. He didn't know as much about you as Dean or Cass did, but he knew that your past haunted you. If anyone in this world understood what it was like to have a haunting past, it was the Winchesters.

Sam furrowed his brows and looked concerned for a moment. "Maybe I should just take you out with me. We'll grab some breakfast somewhere away from here—"

"No." You interrupted him before he could go any further with his thought. "Really, I'm fine. And what about Dean? He's gotta be hungry." You tried to do your best impression of Sam's puppy dog eyes that he used whenever he wanted something.

Sam let out a breath as he tried to find a way to argue with you. He looked frustrated as he ran his hand through his hair and you knew he was having a hard time coming up with a counterpoint. "Fine." Sam's voice was soft as he gave in. "I'll be back with some donuts."

"Sounds good, Sam. Thanks." You gave him a bright smile to try and reinforce the idea that you were fine. You had to be.

He left after promising to return in less than half an hour. A thought occurred to you in his absence and you found yourself wandering into Dean's room. You carefully picked up a few photo frames. You'd made digital copies and printed the few family pictures Dean had and framed them long ago as a gift. He still kept the originals tucked away in a drawer. You also grabbed a few of his favorite tapes that he stored in a cardboard box. One of them was a mixtape that you'd made for him after you started dating. It was a cassette and a pain in the ass to make. You had more experience with CDs and MP3 players.

You waited patiently for Sam to return and started the coffee again. You'd been drinking it all night to stay awake. It wasn't long before he returned. You chuckled slightly as he tried to balance a white box on his forearm and maneuver through the door. "Let me help you with that." You set down Dean's stuff and ran up the stairs to Sam.

"Thanks." Sam let you take the box and hold the door for him.

You worried about him. That arm had a history of taking a beating. You hoped that this would be the last time it got really bad. But you also knew that was probably unrealistic as long as he hunted. Sam always downplayed how much it hurt too. If he was wearing a sling, it was probably really painful. "No problem. Are they all glazed or did you get a variety this time?"

Sam smiled at you. "I have a good variety in there for you. Don't worry."

"Yes!" You were alright with glazed donuts, but having a selection was always so much better. This genuinely cheered you up a little. You opened the box as you practically skipped down the stairs and stuck one in your mouth. The coffee was starting to burn a hole through your stomach.

Seeing you react that way seemed to give Sam a small boost as well. He smiled and laughed. "It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?"

You turned to face Sam, still holding the donut in your mouth. "Mhm."

"Oh my God. You and Dean really are perfect for each other." Sam let out a small laugh before sighing and the mirth left his face. "Come on. You have a breakfast date in the dungeon."

You craved that levity that you usually shared with Sam. It hurt to see it come and go so quickly. You shot a look back at him over your shoulder, grinning, and purposefully answered with your mouth full. "Does that make you our chaperone?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so."

The moment was over. Your heart sank back into the pit it had been resting in for the last few months. "If you take the donuts, I'll grab the coffee." A box would be easier for Sam to carry than three mugs.

"You'd better make that iced." Sam took the box from you.

"What? Why? You guys hate iced coffee in the morning." You stood still for a moment. Sam gave you a sad look and the dots connected in your mind. "Oh." He didn't want anything dangerous around Dean. Things Dean could use to hurt both of you. "Yeah, you're right. I'll be there in a minute."

You sighed as you walked into the kitchen. The coffee wouldn't cool down fast enough and you didn't brew it strong enough to water down with ice. Dean gave you and Sam crap about it, but you were glad you'd sided with Sam on the purchase of an espresso maker. It was low end and only made a couple shots of espresso at a time, but it did the job. While the shots poured out, you grabbed the ice, milk, and some chocolate syrup.

The first few went over ice and you added water. Dean was usually ok with Americanos. You mixed up a couple of iced lattes for you and Sam, hoping that he would be surprised that you made the extra effort. Chocolate syrup went into yours because… well, because you needed that pick-me-up right now.

You grabbed a tote bag to carry Dean's things in to save yourself a second trip. You'd been itching to see Dean in person since he returned with Sam last night. You could hear their voices as you approached and paused before turning the corner, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

"You really think this is gonna work." Dean chuckled at Sam. "Whatever you and Y/N have planned."

There was a brief pause and you picked up on Sam's hesitation. "We are going to fix you, Dean. I swear it."

"Yeah? You know, I'm not so sure I want to be fixed. I'm better now than I ever was before, Sammy." You didn't like how confidently Dean said that. "I'm not _weak_ anymore."

"You were never weak." Sam's voice was sad and full of frustration. "And better for who, Dean? You spent the summer drinking with Crowley and bouncing from motel to motel."

"At least I didn't leave any loose ends. Tell me Sam, how many hours did you spend looking for her?" You had a bad feeling he was setting Sam up for an argument.

"I looked for you every day! Every day, Dean!" Sam was getting angry now.

You took a step forward, but you didn't appear in time to stop Dean's next words from hitting Sam.

"I know you looked for _me_. I mean Y/N. How long did you spend trying to find her instead of me?"

The following silence was painful. You turned the corner just in time to see the smile fade from Dean's face. Sam stopped short and stood straighter. _Fuck._ It was still a sore spot for him and Dean had taken no time at all to find an emotional pressure point to exploit.

"Hey, Sam. Give me a hand?" You pretended you hadn't just heard the exchange and smiled nervously.

Sam turned quickly, wiping a hand over his face as if he could wipe away the guilt and pain Dean had just inflicted. "Yeah. Of course." He furrowed his brows in confusion and amazement when he looked at the cups. His head tilted to the side in disbelief. "Did you really make me a latte?"

"Yeah. I figured you could use it after the last few days." You looked past him at Dean. "Don't worry Dean, yours is just an Americano."

Dean simply rolled his eyes and looked as disinterested as possible in response.

"Thanks, Y/N." Sam still couldn't bring himself to smile.

You started to walk towards Dean. He'd need at least one free hand to eat. Sam threw his hand out and stopped your progress.

"Wait." He held up the warded handcuffs.

"Seriously, Sam? Don't you think that's a little… much?" Your heart ached for Dean.

"Yeah. Seriously, Sam?" Dean looked at Sam mockingly.

"Seriously." Sam looked at the both of you. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea until Dean was a little more human... He unbound Dean's hands and quickly cuffed him.

"Satisfied?" You waited impatiently for Sam to respond.

Sam shot a look at Dean before nodding to you.

You bolted forward and wrapped your arms around Dean. He was completely still in your arms and it unnerved you that he didn't seem to respond to your touch at all. _Not good._ "Dean…" You let go reluctantly and slipped on a mask to hide your disappointment. "Sam went out for donuts and I got some caffeine for you." You forced yourself to smile as you looked into his cold eyes. "You've been up all night. I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Really guys? The two of you are just going to pretend everything is normal—having coffee and donuts in the dungeon." Dean glanced between you and Sam.

There was an uncomfortable silence before you finally spoke. You put a hand on Dean's face. "Listen, Dean. The last few weeks haven't been great for anyone in this room—"

"Oh, I disagree." Dean looked at you. His eyes were full of anger and you withdrew your hand. "With a few exceptions of betrayal and kidnapping, I've had a great time."

"Dean!" Sam's voice boomed out from behind you.

Your mask had slipped slightly and they both saw it. It made Sam protective and you closed your eyes so you wouldn't see Dean smirking. You kept them closed as you focused on your words. "The next few days are going to be rough on you, Dean." You paused and found enough strength to look into his eyes. "I want to give you—to give us a break. So yes, we are going to eat donuts and drink fucking lattes in the dungeon." You made yourself sound as strong and confident as possible.

"Well that's too bad 'cause I'm not hungry." Dean settled back in the chair. "And you're right. The next few days are gonna be really rough. But not on me."

You continued to try and reach him. Sam wasn't used to this version of Dean, but you'd had a front row seat to his transformation. "Please. You need to eat something, Dean." You placed a hand on top of Dean's.

Dean's gave you a cold stare and moved his hand out from under yours. You knew, in that moment, that he was going to say something to hurt you. You braced yourself knowing that he would go for the jugular emotionally.

"You think you can somehow save me. How could you ever save anyone if you couldn't even save yourself?" Dean paused as you stood up and stepped back. "Did you really think that you would get a happy ending?" His words sucked you in and caused an ache in your chest.

"Dean, stop it!" You were vaguely aware of Sam's movements behind you.

"There's only one way your story ends, Y/N. And it ends in _blood and pain_. The only question is how many people have to bleed for you before you get there? How many people will you _fail or betray_ along the way—"

Sam splashed some holy water on Dean's face and he was cut off by his own screaming. You were startled out of your inner spiral long enough to briefly get it together. You spoke to Dean as the screams died down and you stepped out of the devil's trap. "I know what this is. You _do not_ get to quit, Dean Winchester! Push me away all you want, but _I am going to save you_. I will pull your ass out of this—this _fucking nightmare_ if it's the last thing I do." _Because I know this_ _ **is**_ _one of your nightmares._ You turned around swiftly and faced Sam. "Tie him back up, Sam. You heard him, he's not hungry."

"Whoa, whoa. Let's just wait guys." You both ignored Dean as he realized that he was about to be left alone again. He struggled against the restraints and attempted to convince you and Sam to have a change of heart.

Sam didn't need you to tell him twice. You knew you were the only reason that he'd even considered taking a break and getting some food for Dean.

Your façade was about to crumble. "Eat up, Sammy. You have an errand to run before we get this show on the road." There was one thing you needed to do before you left. You grabbed the bag of stuff you'd taken from Dean's room. There was a small table out of his reach and you propped up the pictures to face him. Without looking back, you strode out of the dungeon before you could lose your composure.

"Saving me—be careful what you wish for!" You could hear Dean shout after you just as tears stung at your eyes.

You grabbed your phone and one of Dean's jackets before heading to the garage. You put in a pair of headphones and cranked the volume up. Maybe, just maybe, if you turned up the music enough, it would drown out your thoughts and feelings. Paint it Black was the third song to play and as soon as you heard the guitar chords, you thought you'd be sick. _No. No. FUCK NO._ You nearly dropped to your knees as you fumbled to switch the song. This was too real, too relevant, and too _Dean._ Shuffle was a bad idea. You sought out the comfort of your old playlists. _Come on Bowie, distract me. Soothe my soul._ The music distracted you, but it did nothing for the ache that you felt.

You sat on the ground against your car and waited for Sam to show up. He would come looking for you before he left. After what happened in the dungeon, he would want to talk and see if you were ok. Sure enough, no more than fifteen or twenty minutes passed before he walked through the doorway. His eyes scanned the room. He initially didn't notice you hidden among the cars, so you spoke after removing your headphones.

"He's worse." You were surprised at how dead your own voice sounded. Sam looked over and walked towards you as you cleared your throat and continued. "He wasn't like this when I saw him last. He was…" Your voice trailed off as you struggled for a way to describe the change in Dean. "He was closer to the surface. Even when he left, I could still reach him."

Sam gave you a look of puzzlement and worry. "Y/N…" He sat next to you and a look of sadness washed over him. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you might've been seeing something that wasn't there. I mean, if it's like you said and his eyes changed when he woke up—"

"No, Sam. You _weren't there._ Yeah, I lost Dean a little bit more every day." You stopped yourself as you felt a rush of agony hitting you and threatening to break through. "But he was still _Dean_. I could still reach him. On the day he left… I could still see him behind the demon." Your voice broke and you buried your face in Sam's shoulder, the move nearly catching him off guard. "He's in _so_ much pain Sammy… This _has_ to work. We have to save him."

Sam was speechless for a few long moments. "I know." You knew he was having some of the same fears and feelings you were as his breathing changed. It wasn't much, only you or Dean would've been able to pick up on it. You let him wrap his giant arm around you and hold you close. He held you so tightly, you didn't need to see his face to know he was seeking comfort and grounding himself. You sat in silence and let him take a moment. He needed this. Giving him even a brief moment where he didn't feel like he had to be strong was the only reprieve you could offer. After a few minutes, Sam slowly stood without looking at you. His voice was quiet. You knew he was trying to stay composed. "I'm going out for the blood. I'll be back soon, Y/N. Don't—"

"Yeah. I'm not going anywhere near the dungeon right now, Sam. Don't worry." You looked to the side as Sam turned around to face you.

"Right. Just… get some rest. You shouldn't have anything to worry about, he's locked down. You should be safe in your room. Just lock your door and lay down some salt. Keep your phone on you to be safe. Okay?" Sam shifted his weight in the silence.

"Just hurry." You finally looked up at him with pleading eyes. He stood up straighter and nodded. Sam had a mission, he wasn't about to let you or Dean down. He got into the Impala, pulled out, and you were—for all intents and purposes—alone again. After a few more minutes on the floor, you dragged yourself up and wandered towards your room. Your body craved sleep. The door was salted and locked. You fell asleep sprawled out on top of the mattress, still wearing Dean's jacket.

 _You were on your hands and knees. You were barefoot and your clothing consisted of shorts and a tank top. You stood up quickly as a wave of adrenaline hit you and you were vaguely aware that you were bleeding. It was dark. The world felt desaturated of all color. There was a fierce wind that bit at your skin. The strength of it caused your hair to whip around wildly and it was hard to keep your balance. The howling of it was deafening._

 _You frantically took in your surroundings. It seemed like you were in a vast wilderness. There was no moon or stars in the sky, the only source of light was something burning in the distance. With no other direction or form of guidance, you made your way towards it. The blades of grass cut like tiny shards of glass beneath your feet. Each rock, down to the tiniest piece of gravel was like a hot coal. Every step was hell as you limped between ancient trees and large bushes whose branches cut like knives._

 _As you drew closer to the fire, you heard the sounds of screaming beyond the trees. It was the unrestrained sound of pure agony. But that's not what made you take in a sharp breath before you abandoned all concern for yourself and blindly ran forward._

 _No. The thing that had propelled you forward in this world of darkness… It was Dean. You had no doubt in your mind. You ran through the darkness and pain. You ran faster when the screaming stopped. There was a clearing with an enormous fire in the middle. You had to stop and let your eyes adjust to the light. Even at this distance, you could feel the heat._

 _There. A man wearing only a pair of worn jeans was lying face down a few yards away from the inferno. Dean. You ran towards him without hesitation or care. "Dean!" Your knees bled and burnt as you knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. Dean's face… it was a mess of blood and bruises. His beautiful body had been beaten and burned all over. He was limp in your grasp. You touched him gently and tried to get some sort of response. Dean remained still. You're heart leapt into your throat as you felt it shatter. Grief and agony washed over you as you doubled over sobbing, your own body covering his._

 _A gentle touch cut through your pain. You shakily sat up to see Dean's eyes squinting up at you. They were slightly glazed over. His hand still weakly hovered where your cheek had been and you grabbed it like a lifeline. His brows furrowed in confusion. "Y/N…" His voice was raw and raspy. "What… what are you doing here?" He shifted and was trying to sit up on his own. You heard the rattle of metal and felt sick as you noticed a chain that was attached to Dean's ankle and extended into the heart of the fire. Not good. Dean was injured and delirious._

" _No. Dean, stay still. I'm saving you." You looked at him with wide eyes as you desperately tried to think of a way out of this mess. You ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt and tenderly wiped some of the blood away from his face. "Just—just hold on. You're hurt pretty bad." You ran a hand through your hair and quickly tried to put yourself back together. "But it's ok though. I'm gonna patch you up, and you'll be fine. I just need to get that chain off and then I'm getting you out of here." You painfully drew your eyes away from Dean's to look for something—anything that may help. If you searched, you were sure you could find something to break the chain._

" _Feels cold…" His voice drew your gaze back on him._

" _Hey! No, none of that now, Dean! I'm dragging you out of here, do you hear me?" You swore fiercely and looked him in the eye. "You don't get to quit on me, not this time, not ever."_

" _No…" Dean shook his head wearily and closed his eyes as he swallowed. "You. Feels nice…"_

 _You looked at him in puzzlement. You felt like it was about a million degrees. The heat from the fire was overwhelming._

 _Dean ran a hand through your hair with a look of amazement. "How'd you learn to do that?"_

" _Do what, Dean?" You bent down closer to hear his broken voice._

" _Glow. It's like you're made of stars." He gave you a weak smile._

 _You let out a small laugh. "Always the charmer. You can hit on me after I get you out of here, Babe." He was definitely out of it._

 _Dean gave you a concerned look. A little more focus and clarity crossed his features. "No…" He sat up despite your efforts to keep him still. His hand reached for your forehead and his fingers gently brushed up against a gash you'd received during your mad dash to the clearing. You hissed a little in pain._

 _Dean pulled his hand back quickly and examined his fingers. A silver substance was shining briefly until it lost its luminescence and faded to the same black that matched Dean's blood in the darkness. You looked at him in confusion as he lifted his gaze back to you. You watched as he pushed down his own pain to give you all of his focus. His eyes were clear and full of fear for a moment. Then, something shifted and he was every bit the sharpened hunter that had dragged you away from a vengeful god. He pulled your arms out and examined them before looking over every last inch of your skin that he could._

 _You looked down for the first time and realized exactly what Dean was talking about. Every cut looked as if it was an eerie crack or scratch along your skin revealing dim starlight. It was surreal and mesmerizing at the same time. What the hell…?_

" _Y/N… Y/N!" Dean's voice suddenly drew you back to full attention and his broad hands gripped your shoulders._

 _You lifted your eyes to his. "What's going on, Dean?"_

" _Listen to me, Y/N." His tone was as commanding as he could force his voice to be. "You need to leave right now. Run."_

" _What? No, Dean. Just let me break—"_

" _Y/N! There's no time. You're going to leave me here and you're going to pick a direction—any direction—and run." Dean's voice held a pleading edge to it._

" _No! I'm not going to leave you. We don't leave each other." You quickly embraced him as tightly as you dared._

" _Today we do." Dean gently pushed you away with one hand as he weakly pulled of your arms. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's only a matter of time before he gets back and if he sees you—"_

" _I don't care!" Dean flinched slightly at your words and you softened your tone. "If you think there's any way in hell I'm just going to run, you've got another thing coming."_

" _Please, just trust me. I'm begging you." His voice began to betray the anxiety that he was hiding._

" _Then tell me, Dean. Who is it that you're so afraid of? Who am I running from?" It had to be something truly terrible to have caused Dean this much damage and fear._

 _Dean's gaze shifted over your shoulder and his eyes went wide as he stood weakly. The action caused you to jump up. "RUN! NOW!"_

 _You turned around to see a figure in the tree line. Dean's arms roughly grabbed you and pushed you behind him as he tried to put himself between the two of you._

 _You decided right there, that whatever was coming, whatever this monster was, you would stand there and face it with Dean. You reached forward and grabbed Dean's hand. He quickly looked back at you and made no effort to mask the pain on his face. As you slowly stepped out from behind Dean, you gasped._

 _The man walking towards you was also Dean. But his eyes were black and full of malice. Whatever this place was, it didn't seem to affect him as he stalked towards the two of you._

" _You really should've listened to him, Y/N." He smiled at you before glancing at Your Dean. He took out the first blade from his waistband and pointed it at the man you loved. You tried to step in front, but the real Dean wouldn't have it. "You know, I've been trying to kill this son of a bitch for months now. I'll give it to him, he sure is a tough one. I've beaten him, stabbed him, burned him—"_

" _You can shut the fuck up." You didn't want to hear anything this monster had to say. "You're never going to touch him again. You're going to wish you're dead once I'm through with you." Your voice was filled with venom. "We are going to get the fuck out of here and then… I'm coming back for you, you black-eyed son of a bitch. You are going to beg me to send you to hell."_

" _The most beautiful part of this whole arrangement…" His eyes shifted to you as he paused._

" _Please, don't." You could hear Dean whisper next to you._

" _I don't have to lay a finger on him. He's going to give in and finally kick it unless he wants to see what I've got planned for you." You instinctively recoiled from the wicked smile this monster was giving you._

 _Dean's voice was laced with anger. "I swear to God, if you touch her—"_

 _The demon back handed Dean and you caught him as he stumbled. You knew he was too weak to put up much of a fight. It was the broken and defeated look on his face that filled you with rage._

" _WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT, DEAN? HAVEN'T YOU REALIZED THERE IS NO GOD HERE?" The demon snarled at Dean and started laughing as he turned around and began another monologue._

 _You set Dean down and kissed him. "I love you, Dean." You felt him grab at your wrist as you stepped away. There was no way in hell this would work. The only weapon you had was the element of surprise. You knew from sparring with Dean that you had less than a forty percent chance of incapacitating him. But that was normal Dean and not this demon in a world that seemed designed to inflict pain. You took a deep breath and lunged for the demon and unleashed all of your fury. The blade was out of your reach and he slipped out of your choke hold. To your credit, you managed to catch him off guard enough to knock him down. You landed a few satisfying punches to his face before he laughed through the blood and flipped you so he was on top. The first blade pressed up against your throat and you looked at him with defiance. "Go ahead, cut me. I dare you."_

" _Don't be so sure I won't gorgeous. I love the way you bleed here. It's so… Well, I'm sure you know." He drew the blade down the side of your cheek. You squinted your eyes in hatred and refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream._

" _NO!" You heard Dean yell out. The links on the chain around his ankle rattled until you heard him reach the end of it with a clanking sound. You were out of his reach now._

" _What do you think, Dean-o? Should I just go ahead and kill her right now?"_

" _Get your fucking hands off of her, you bastard! Or I swear—"_

" _Ah… Don't worry, I wouldn't end the game before having a little bit of fun first." The demon unexpectedly released you and let you get to your feet. "I wouldn't do that again if I were you, though_ _,_ _sweetheart." He cast you a sideways glance. "No, I think we should show Y/N what we've been up to lately."_

 _The demon was suddenly on top of Dean. You called out for him as you realized what was about to happen and he told you to run one more time. You watched in horror as the demon cruelly carved into Dean's skin as he held him down. Once again, you were listening to him scream._

" _DEAN!"_

You collided into consciousness with Dean's name still on your lips. Waking up should've comforted you, it should've provided some measure of relief. But there was nothing that could comfort or calm you down. There was nothing that could fix this because one thing remained constant. Dean was still screaming.

You ran to your door and threw it open. Without a door to muffle the sounds, they only grew louder and bounced off of the walls in the bunker. You ran with only one thought. _Dean._ You blindly scrambled towards the sound, calling out his name. You'd nearly made it to the dungeon before a large hand grabbed you.

"NO! LET ME GO!" You panicked and fought in your attempts to get to Dean. "Dean!" Despite your fighting and wrenching to get free, it held you still and pulled you towards its owner. "Get the fuck off of me!"

"Y/N… Y/N!" Sam's voice drifted in to your awareness. "Y/N, stop! Stop. It's just me, it's ok. You're ok." His voice was gentle but there was a frantic edge to it.

You stopped fighting him immediately and let him hold you close as you drew in ragged breaths. Dean was still screaming and his voice tore at you. "Let me go, Sammy. I have to see him. I have to help him. There's something _wrong_."

"It's ok, Y/N. It's just the ritual. I started it while you were still asleep." Sam's grip on you loosened, but he still wouldn't release his hold on you.

You craned your neck to look up at him with wide eyes. "You started the ritual without me?" You shook your head and pushed against him. "I have to get in there Sam. Please, he needs me. Something isn't right."

"No. Remember Crowley? Remember how he fought when I did this the first time? That isn't _Dean_ in there and I'm not letting you anywhere near him right now." Sam tried to reassure you, but his commanding tone only pushed you further away.

"You won't let me?" You closed your eyes briefly as Dean's voice broke. "I love him and he needs me right now. You can't just tell me what to do all the time, Sam!"

"He wouldn't want it!" His outburst shocked you. "Dean, he wouldn't want you to see him like this. This is _exactly_ what he was trying to protect you from when he asked you to stay behind when we went after Metatron. It's why he knocked me out. This—the demon, the mark—he never wanted you to see him like this. He would rather die—"

"He did die!" Feelings that you'd buried rose to the surface. "Dean died! You brought him home and he was dead, Sam. He was dead and we cleaned up his body as best as we could..." You looked away and took a shuddering breath. "He died and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I'll be damned if I ever let him go again."

Sam swallowed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug. "I know. I know, Y/N. But you said it yourself, he's getting worse. He's… Dean's not himself right now. The things he's saying…" He held you at arm's length and looked down at you. His eyes were sad and pleading. _Fuck._ Sam was about to ask you to do something and it was going to be nearly impossible to say no. "I'm not telling you what to do, I'm asking you. Please let me handle the first part of the ritual. Once he's a little more… human… you can get off of the bench. But for now, please just take a break. Here…" He started fishing in his pocket and pulled out a familiar keychain. "I'll even give you your keys back. Just please give me some time to get this started."

Sam placed the keys in the palm of your hand. You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. _Well… shit._ "Sam… I couldn't bring myself to leave. And even if I could, you just used the freaking face and those sad puppy eyes on me… FUCK!"

"I'm asking for two days here. That way the ritual will be over and—"

"Hell no. Think in terms of hours, Sam. I'm not letting you and Dean go through this alone." You stood firm as you cut him off. "I'll give you three."

"That's not enough time, Y/N. I just started the ritual. Give me until tomorrow night."

"Tonight. Nine o'clock." Your eyes drifted down the hallway.

"Fine, tomorrow morning." Sam was being stubborn and you couldn't handle it right now.

"Don't push me, Sam! You'll drop back down to three hours and you know better than to try and stop me from marching in there—"

"Ok! Ok, tonight." Sam held his hand out in surrender. He let out a breath you didn't realize he was holding and his shoulders sagged with relief. "That's great, Y/N. Thank you."

His thanks caught you off guard. "Yeah… let me know if you need anything, Sam. Anything." You slowly stepped away and forced yourself to walk back towards your room. Dean's screams still echoed behind you. Walking away from him took every fiber of mental strength you had and you collapsed on your bed after shutting the door. Even with the door shut, you could still hear him. When you couldn't stand it anymore, you turned on some music. Après Moi seemed perfect, but did nothing for the screams that still echoed in your mind.

You spent the rest of the afternoon and evening pouring over angel research and trying to find a way to help Castiel. Someone needed to look out for him in this whole fucked up situation. Idly, you considered calling him a few times. But you didn't have any news for him and you really didn't want to call unless it was an emergency or good news. Cass had enough to worry about now as is. Instead you settled on sending a text after a few more hours of frustrating angel research that continued to turn up a lot of nothing. You thought again about the possibility of finding an angel to trap and killing it to steal its grace. It would be hard, but you would have no problem with that if it came down to it. Cass was family whether he realized it or not. You _refused_ to lose another family member ever again.

—Hey. Stay safe for me, Featherbrain. No fighting angels, no hunting, no nothing until we fix you. We _will_ fix this, I just need a little more time. I'm neck deep in research and Sam is with Dean. Take it easy.

Cass didn't really like texting, so it didn't surprise you when you didn't get a message back. Instead you just worried about whether he was being safe or not. _That Hannah chick had better be taking good fucking care of you._

The hours passed slowly as they approached nine o'clock. You weren't going to wait any longer than that. You showered and threw on some fresh clothes. It was nothing special, just a grey tank top, flannel, and some jeans. You didn't bother with shoes in the bunker anymore. It felt like home. At 8:59, you were putting your hair up and walking out of your room. Sam would probably try to talk you into giving him more time. But you refused to wait anymore.


	11. Chapter 10

**AN: Sorry about the long stretches in between chapter postings. I felt like this chapter especially needed to be done right. It went through a few changes and incarnations before turning into what it is now. It was only supposed to be between 7000-8000 words and its over 10,000. I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Thanks to all of the readers, followers, and reviewers. You have my love.**

 **I would like to mention I had the pleasure of finally having the opportunity to meet my beta, the lovely peddlergirl, in person for the first time since I last published. She's a truly amazing person and I'm lucky to have her as a friend. The fandom has really provided me with a sister. Check out her fic, Combustible, if you have time!**

As you stepped into the hallway, you realized Dean's screams had stopped. You tried to take some relief in that. _Maybe it's almost over. Maybe Sam really did manage the ritual alone._ Part of you knew better though. Things were never that easy. You rounded a corner and bumped into Sam, nearly falling backwards.

"Whoa. Y/N, easy." Sam gently gripped your elbow to help you steady yourself. "I was, uh, just coming to talk to you."

A nervous glance from him made you wary. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms. "Sam, if you want more time—"

"I know. I know." Sam spoke slowly and softly. "You're going to tell me no, but hear me out. We need to talk." You could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Talk about what?" You looked at him cautiously. That phrase—we need to talk—was never good in your experience. "The ritual is supposed to be eight injections of purified blood. One every hour. Dean shouldn't have more than a couple more hours to go before he was cured."

You could see pain and sadness in Sam's eyes. "You heard him earlier—when I first started the ritual. This isn't exactly the same situation we had with Crowley. He's in pain, Y/N."

"I know, Sam. We knew this wouldn't be the same from the beginning. And I _know_ he's in pain. I can practically feel it. It—" Your voice broke and you took a deep breath to reign your emotions back in. "It's tearing me apart, Sammy. It has taken every ounce of my will power to sit back and wait like you asked."

Sam winced slightly at your last statement. That crack in his composure gave you a glimpse of how brutally this was eating him alive, too. The mask he put up to protect you was wearing thin. "I just don't want you to get hurt anymore, Y/N. You've been through enough already…" He trailed off before turning the conversation back to Dean. "After the first round, he was in enough pain that I've been waiting an hour and fifteen minutes to give him more time to recover. I just gave him the fifth injection. Luckily, he passed out right before this one."

"Jesus…" A wave of shock washed over you before anxiety propelled your body into motion. "I need to see him." You brushed by Sam and he was close on your heels.

"Y/N, he's in rough shape. I don't think—"

"No." Your voice was low as you interrupted Sam's protest before he could go any further into his argument. You didn't even glance back at him as you walked ahead. Every inch of you was tense between your determination and worry for Dean. Between your voice and body language, you must've been pretty compelling. Sam fell silent and simply followed you. He didn't push the argument further after that.

You gasped when you entered the dungeon. Dean was slumped in the chair he was still chained to within the warding. His skin was too pale. You could see a sheen of sweat across his face and beginning to soak into his shirt. Even in unconsciousness, he seemed to be grimacing in pain. Even his breathing was off. _Oh God…_ You swallowed a lump in your throat. Somehow, you managed to move forward until you reached the edge of the devil's trap. You glanced back at Sam and he gave you a slight nod to go ahead.

You shrugged off your flannel shirt and started to wipe the sweat away from Dean's face. "Dean. Dean? Can you hear me, love?" He remained limp and unresponsive. "How long has he been like this?" Your voice was high and tense with concern. Your hand trailed down the side of his face and onto his neck. You turned to face Sam without breaking physical contact with Dean.

"He passed out about forty-five minutes after the fourth injection. It wasn't this bad when I gave him the last dose. He was just out of it and I thought—." Sam paused and you could feel the fear in his words. "You know, like it might be a good thing. He doesn't need to feel all that pain… I swear, when I left him he was only unconscious."

 _Shit. Ok, it hasn't been going on long._ You took a deep breath before shoving down all the fear and other emotions that would stop you from doing anything but moving forward and focusing on Dean. _Ok. Right. Get a grip, Y/N. Let's do this._ You looked back at Dean while you addressed Sam, keeping your voice low and even. "Sammy." You heard him shift behind you. "I need water, towels, and a fresh shirt for him. Go."

"Anything else?" Sam was already moving. He was just as worried over Dean as you were. That was something Sam was not very good at hiding.

 _I have no idea. I don't know… How do I fix this?_ "I'll let you know." You kept gently brushing your shirt against Dean's damp skin. You placed a hand on his cheek. "It's ok. I'm here now." You pressed your lips to his forehead and rested your head against his. "Please, Babe. I need to know if you can hear me. I'm right here. You're—" You couldn't promise him that he was going to be ok. _Not now. Focus!_ "You're with me and I'm going to fix this, Dean. Just give me something, anything." _I need to know you're still in there._

Sam returned shortly with water and towels promising to be right back while he grabbed one of Dean's shirts. You reached for two small towels—more like glorified washcloths—and soaked them in the cold water before wringing them out and turning back to Dean. The first one was placed on the back of his neck and allowed to rest there. You would cool it down again for him in a few minutes. Your current focus turned to attempting to get him conscious, cooled down, and cleaned up. Starting with his face, you gently wiped his skin with the cold, damp towel all while whispering reassurances and sweet nothings to him.

As you refreshed the towel on his neck, Sam returned with a simple black shirt for Dean. "Any change?" Sam looked genuinely scared when you looked back at him. He wasn't expecting you to turn and was briefly caught off guard being caught without the mask of bravery he was trying to put on for you.

It didn't matter, you could always see through his layers. You knew him too well. "He's still out of it. I want to get him cooled down before I change his shirt. He'll be more comfortable that way." Your brain was still scrambling to form more of a plan of action. Sam nodded at you in response. "Is there anything I can do?"

You let out a long sigh. "I need a few other things. I'll stay down here with him while you get some rest. I promise I'll let you know if things get worse. I need some food and water for us and I'm going to need Dean's tape player. I would also really appreciate it if you could grab my phone and some headphones in case…" _In case he starts screaming again. In case he's not human enough yet…_

"… _you couldn't even save yourself." "Did you really think that you would get a happy ending?" "There's only one way your story ends, Y/N. And it ends in blood and pain. The only question is how many people have to bleed for you before you get there? How many people will you fail or betray along the way—"_ Dean's words from earlier echoed in your brain and sent a chill down your spine.

"Sure thing." Sam's voice pulled you out of your brief reverie. You fought to block Dean's words out before Sam could see your expression and ask what was wrong. He returned not long after with all of the items. You'd managed to get Dean cooled down enough and he looked significantly better than before. Sam helped you get his shirt changed and set a timer for the next injection. There was a little less than an hour left to kill.

The cassettes you brought down were still here and you started playing his favorite mix tape. You sat against the opposite wall facing Dean, willing him to move. The tape cycled through all of the tracks with no change from Dean. The next injection wasn't far off. You decided to play the mix tape you'd made him. A silent tear rolled down your cheek as you wondered whether anything would ever be normal again.

You decided to check Dean before going back to your spot against the wall. As you wiped his brow again, you realized how much you missed simply touching him and having quiet moments. This summer had been hell. There was no room for soft and tender things. Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment. As you started to pull away, he leaned into your touch. For a moment, your heart stopped.

You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped your lips. "Dean?" His name came out as a whispered plea. "Can you hear me? Just nod, you don't have to say anything." _Please don't let me have imagined that._

The movement was slight at first. He furrowed his brow and repeated the action with a groan.

"Oh God…" You paused to collect yourself. _Assess and deal with the situation first, Y/N._ It was a real struggle to hold back emotionally. "I know it hurts… Can you open your eyes? Please, Dean."

He merely gave a low hum in response.

"C'mon, Babe. Just look at me, you can do it." You coaxed him gently. He managed to open his eyes enough to squint up at you. Dean's eyes were full of pain and he looked like he was trying to work through the fog in his brain.

"Y/N?" Dean's voice sounded raspy, and that was being generous.

"Yeah." You beamed at him. "It's me." You quickly reached for a bottle of water and unscrewed the top. "Here. You're dehydrated. You need to drink." You held the bottle to his lips, but he didn't drink. Instead, Dean looked at the liquid nervously and back at you. Your heart broke a little as you realized what he was thinking. "It's not holy water, Dean. I promise."

He nodded and took a small sip. When it didn't burn, he tried to take bigger gulps.

You shot Dean a look of concern. "Slow down. You need to sip or else you'll make yourself sick." Your heart broke for him in his misery.

Dean stopped and you put the bottle down. "Wha happn'd…?"

"Sammy said you passed out before the last injection he gave you. You were burning up when I got here. I've been trying to keep you cool, but…" You looked away and spoke softly. "I think there's something wrong. The ritual—it's not supposed to be like this."

Dean's eyes closed and you watched him process everything you told him. "Where—" He stopped to clear his throat. "Where'd you go, Y/N?"

You were unprepared and his question hit you like a ton of bricks. "What?" It was all you could manage.

"Sammy—he's been down here dosing me up all day. Where were you?" He stared into your eyes and spoke quietly. "I thought you'd be here."

Memories of the last few hours hit suddenly and they hit hard. They filled you with guilt, sadness, and regret. "I umm… Sam, he—" You stopped. There was nothing you could tell him that would heal your absence. "I'm sorry, Dean." You pressed your forehead to his chest, trying not to break down. "I'm so, so sorry."

There was something gentle in the silence that followed. You hoped this rare moment of passiveness from him was forgiveness. There had been nothing but tension and chaos between you since the mark brought him back. Everything felt peaceful for once in the middle of this shit storm. You just knelt there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. It had been ages since you simply listened to his heart beat. The timer Sam set went off suddenly, startling you. _Fuck._

You had been dreading actually performing the ritual and giving Dean injections. Tentatively, you pulled yourself away and walked to the table. Dean only needed three more injections, but Sam had prepared extra in case something went awry. You took one and turned back to Dean. He knew what was on the table. And even if he didn't, it was impossible to hide the guilt and sadness on your face.

Dean regarded you carefully. It was the closest thing to fear you'd seen from him in a long time. "Y/N… You're not really going to keep trying this are you?"

"I have to, Dean. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be." You stepped toward him.

"You saw what this is doing to me! You're willing to just roll the dice that this time it won't kill me?"

His question stopped you in your tracks. Waves of guilt, grief, and anguish nearly brought you to your knees. _Close your eyes. Deep breaths. You_ _ **won't**_ _kill him._ "It's not a roll of the dice. Sam and I did our research." You remembered the church, trying to close the gates to hell...

"Lore… That's rich, Y/N. You know that half the time that stuff is just bull crap." Dean started to glare up at you.

You slowly opened your eyes and stared Dean down. He wasn't going to get you to back down, not on this. "Crowley, the demon you've been besties with this summer, was our guinea pig. Remember?" Dean glanced away. It was a low blow.

You softened your expression a little. "I'm _not_ going to let you die, Dean. Not again. I have spent _every day_ wishing that I didn't let you talk me into staying behind while you fought Metatron. I will _never_ forget cleaning you up after Sam brought you home. I—I held your body and waited until Sam was ready to burn you. I knew you would never forgive me if I made a deal to bring you back." You paused and let out a dry laugh. "When you came back, I actually thought it was a miracle. For the first time in a long time, I was ready to put aside _everything_ and thank God or whatever angel brought you back. Until I saw your eyes and the demon looking back at me. This isn't you, Dean."

You knelt down and placed a hand on his thigh. "I will never forgive myself for letting you fight alone. I will always regret not running to the nearest crossroads to save you. But I _will_ fix this." While his eyes were locked on yours, you slid the needle into his arm gently and swiftly while depressing the plunger.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise before going black. His features contorted in pain as he cried out in agony. You couldn't help but fall backwards in shock. He was struggling against the restraints so much you wondered if they would hold him even with the added warding. This was part of what Sam had tried to spare you from and you understood. You realized what that protection must have cost him, what he had been dealing with trying to shoulder this alone. You had no idea how he had managed to get through the bulk of the ritual.

"Dean! Dean, it's alright. Only two more after this. Ok?" You scrambled forward and cupped his face. "I'm sorry, Babe…" His head was thrown back, eyes slammed shut against the pain and he was still screaming. "C'mon, you've got this—You're gonna be alright! You're going to get through this and _make_ it, understand me?!" You continued trying to reach him, offering reassurances. There was no sign that he heard any of it. Everything felt _wrong_ and the pain only seemed to be getting worse _. Sam. Go get Sam._

Your eyes darted to the door and back to Dean. "I am _not_ leaving you. I'll be right back, Dean." Your hand lingered on his shoulder before you raced off into the bunker. _Think, Y/N! Likely places… Library, kitchen, or his room._ The lights were dimmed in the library so you dashed towards the kitchen. You could hear his muffled voice from down the hall. He must be on the phone. You slowed your pace as you drew closer.

"…I—It's not like it was with Crowley." Sam was talking about Dean. You stopped to listen in the hallway. "Dean's in pain. I mean, he's in _bad_ pain. I—It's like he's barely holding on. Y/N's in the dungeon taking care of him now." Sam paused. "Cass… I think we might be killing him."

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a gasp. It was one thing to for you to suspect it because you felt protective of Dean. Deep down, you hoped you were overreacting. But for Sam to say what you were terrified of… that brought this to a whole new level. You could take comfort in his confidence and surety during the past few days. Sam would never let anything happen to Dean, he would never risk his life.

"So… what? Should we stop?" Sam sounded so lost. You ached to hear what Castiel was saying right now. Maybe he would have another idea.

Sam's voice broke in again. "Cass, did you not hear what I just said?" Disbelief. Whatever Cass had said, it was bad. Your back slowly slid down the wall. "I could be _killing my brother_. Y/N could be killing Dean—" He was cut off by Cass. _Shit shit shit shit SHIT!_

"Killing Dean… You're saying I need to be prepared to kill him if this doesn't work." You heard Sam let out a heavy sigh. You could tell from his tone that he was at a dead end and he couldn't think his way out of this. "Yeah, all right. I'll, uh, I'll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just hurry." Cass was coming.

You heard the phone beep and clatter onto the table. _Time to move. You weren't supposed to hear this._ Moving quickly, you made your way back to the dungeon. If this didn't work, there had to be another way. Sam and Cass wouldn't give you the task of killing Dean. Also, neither of them would dare to harm him with you around. As long as you were nearby, you could be Dean's shield until you came up with something else. You didn't need motivation to move faster, but a sudden crash and loud, frustrated groan coming from the kitchen provided it.

Dean's screams had tapered off and now he was silent again. He was totally out of it once you got back. "Dean? Dean!" You lightly tapped his face anxiously. "Hey, you still with me?"

His brows furrowed and he squinted against the light. "Ugh… y—yeah. I think so."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good…" _Now what?_ You stood and paced for a moment.

Dean looked at you with wariness and confusion. "What's wrong?"

Your head snapped to Dean. "Nothing. I'm just thinking."

He paused and you thought he was giving you some space to work this out. "Are you thinking about what you're gonna have to do to me if this doesn't work?"

"No." You were completely serious. You were trying to figure out something—anything that would save him. There was only one person left you could turn to. The thought of talking to him made your blood boil. _This is for Dean. Put your stupid feelings aside and do what needs to be done._

"FUCK!" You snapped, digging through your bag and pulling out your phone.

Y/N: Listen up, because I wouldn't be contacting you unless some serious shit was hitting the fan. Dean's in really bad shape. Sam and Cass were just talking about maybe having to kill him. So if _you_ ever cared about Dean in that dark, rotting thing you call a heart, you will help. Fix Dean, find a spell, show up... Hell, I'll take anything. Any deal you want to make, I don't care about the fine print. I'm in as long as you help Dean. 10:37 pm

You waited anxiously for your phone to chime. Dean was staring at you. "Don't ask. Do. Not. Ask. Dean." If he pushed, it would be way too easy for you to snap at him and you didn't want that. Thankfully, he gave you a look of surrender and said nothing. Your phone chimed.

Fuckface: And what would Dean do to me if I fixed him and took your soul? I'm not suicidal. No deal, Pet. I will consider the situation though. I'm bored. Not much for the bureaucracy of Hell. Tell your boy toy I send my regards. 10:40 pm

You wondered why you were even surprised. There was no way he would touch this situation even if he did care enough to want to help. Crowley was smart. And he always put his own survival first. You took a few tired steps towards Dean and sat in front of him. You rested your head in his lap, seeking a moment of peace to get clarity. The mixtape drew your attention. Heroes was playing. Although you loved it, it was bittersweet and reminded you of happier times.

Right now, you'd much rather listen to _your_ music. Music that expressed your anger, sadness, grief, and so many more unspoken things you held inside your soul. Your mind drifted to the various poetry slams you'd love to revisit right now.

Dean's voice came out softly from above you. "What was it you said about this song?" He placed his right hand on your head and tucked back a stray strand of hair with the limited slack the cuffs would allow. "Something about taking every day we could get together. You said that you would never stop fighting for us and we would always be heroes."

You knelt back and faced Dean. His features were so gentle and soft. You never would've guessed at the hell he was going through or the fact he was a demon now if you didn't know. "I remember. I meant it. I still do."

"I know. I know you do." His green eyes melted you and drew you in. You placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch. It was the most tenderness he had shown you in a long time. You sighed in relief. The ritual was working and the human part of him was starting to take hold.

"Dean… I've missed you so much." You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his soft lips. He returned the kiss and deepened it. You knew you were going to let yourself get lost in the moment and pulled away ever so slightly. You looked into his eyes, ready to bathe in those pools of green. "We can't. Not right—"

A lot of things happened at once. Dean's eyes turned black. Suddenly, there was the sound of his skull connecting with yours in a loud smack. You were falling backwards in a haze until the second impact of the floor secured your journey into oblivion.

You were greeted by dizzying pain. Groaning, you struggled to push yourself up off of the floor. The first thing you noticed was an alarm buzzing. A red bulb in the corner illuminated the space. "Dean…?" You maneuvered on the ground to face him, but the chair was empty.

 _The bunker is on lockdown._ Panic rose in your chest as you tried to piece together what had happened. He was finally coming around, you could see Dean coming to the surface. You remembered kissing him and then… _Oh shit…_ You were careless. You let yourself fall into a false sense of security. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ You continued to inwardly curse at yourself as you checked the lines in the devil's trap. _How did he make it out? Hell, how did he even get out of the cuffs?_

You found your answer on the floor next to the chair. Dean had taken a bobby pin you were using. He only had one chance to touch your hair. You closed your eyes in heartache. The whole thing was a ruse to draw you in and you fell for it. _Sam._

The thought hit you hard. Sammy was somewhere in the bunker. _Alone_. You had no doubt Dean would go after him. Hopefully you hadn't been out for long. You stood as quickly as your aching head would allow. You had to stop Dean. The first priority was saving Sam now that he was loose. Then, you could worry about containing him again. You took the warded cuffs and the key as you passed it on the way out. They fit perfectly in your back pocket.

It was eerily quiet other than the buzz of the alarm. Your heart raced and you had to push down a surge of fear every time you turned a new corner. In addition to this twisted hide and seek, navigating the bunker in the dark while recovering from a head injury provided its own challenge.

The lights came back on and you didn't know whether to take that as a good or bad sign, but it gave you a direction to go in. There was only one place that controlled the power universally like that and all the switches were manual. You were sure that you'd find one of them there. Although, you weren't sure which one you'd rather find first.

If you found Sam first, he could provide backup and help you form a plan if Dean hadn't already— _No…_ You refused to go there. Sam had to be ok. Finding him first also meant that you would have to convince him not to kill Dean though—if he hadn't already. The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

If Dean was the one that was waiting, it probably meant that he'd already gotten to Sam. You couldn't see him going for the lights unless Sam was already dealt with. You hoped Dean would leave him alive. You weren't sure what he'd do to you. He left you alive when he could've easily killed you earlier.

A loud bang suddenly echoed through the bunker. You could make out their raised voices and ran towards the control room. _They're both still alive._ The banging and shouting persisted as you drew closer. Rushing into the situation could be deadly. You ducked in a doorway around the corner to listen and assess the situation.

"…you really mean that." It was Dean. His tone was dark and full of glee at the same time.

"Look, if you come out of that room, I won't have a choice!" Sam was trying to be strong. His warning held an edge of desperation to it though. _So he had Dean contained. He wasn't going to kill him…_ Your heart rejoiced for a moment that Sam wouldn't go through with it. It was short lived as you realized that Dean was picking up on all of this, too. He would take full advantage of the situation while he was free.

"Sure you will! And I know which one you'll make. Isn't that right, Sammy?" His statement confirmed your fears.

You needed a plan. Taking a risk, you glanced down the corridor. Sam had the demon blade. He wouldn't use it, but it comforted you to know he had some sort of protection. Judging by the amount of splintered wood on the floor, Dean would break through it soon. You'd never see that scene in The Shining the same way again…

"But, see… Here's the thing, I'm lucky. Oh, hell, I'm blessed. 'Cause there's just enough demon left in me that killing you ain't no choice at all."

 _Shit._ Plan or no plan, Sam needed you _now._ You stepped out just in time to realize that he had already run past you. You opened your mouth to call after him. But before you could form his name, Dean called out to him. He sounded much closer and the banging had stopped.

Your options were limited. You could chase after Sam and try to find him in the labyrinth of hallways. Ducking back into the room was an option. There was a chance Dean wouldn't find you. Or, you could confront Dean.

Chasing after Sam would be a liability to you both with Dean this close by. It was hard to choose between the two options left to you. The headache wasn't helping you decide any faster and your hesitation cost you that choice. Dean appeared in front of you. You swallowed as you noted the hammer in his hands. _Fuck. This is so fucked up._

"Hey, Dean." You tried to look as non-threatening and non-combative as possible. There was still a chance you could make it out of this. If you played your cards right, you might be able to cuff him. Dean had chosen not to kill you earlier. You hoped he still wouldn't.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Well… Look who's back up and around. How's the head? I thought you'd be out for a little while longer."

You knew better than to play into his hands and show weakness. "You always said I was hard-headed. Is there any chance I can convince you to stop?" Your body tensed as your brain sent out adrenaline. It was screaming for you to choose between fight or flight.

Dean lowered his gaze and took a step forward. "No."

You took an involuntary step back in response. _Stall. Buy Sam and yourself some time. Get him talking and occupied._ "You didn't kill me back there. Wanna tell me what you were planning?"

Dean let the hammer fall from his hands. _That was unexpected._ You didn't move as he closed the gap between you. "Maybe it's better if I show you." His right hand wrapped around your waist in a smooth motion that was so typically _Dean_. Dean drew you in gently until you were pressing against his body. His lips met yours and his hands moved with the same strong and slow confidence that you learned was nearly impossible to resist.

You responded to each kiss and each touch he gave you. _Keep him distracted._ When he slowly pulled away, he held your hands in his and stared into your eyes. You would've been breathless if Dean— _your_ Dean, not the demon—wasn't so far gone right now.

His grip suddenly tightened and you heard the clicking of handcuffs. _Oh no…_

"You see, Y/N, I was thinking a little payback was in order." His eyes turned black. There was nothing human about him now. "How does it feel to be betrayed by the one you love?" Dean threw you to the side. You thanked the one lucky star you had that he didn't cuff your hands behind your back. This way you had a chance at bracing for the impact and defending yourself.

"Dean, please! Don't!" In one instant, you knew whatever he had in store for you was bad. _Really bad._ Even when Dean wasn't turning into a demon, when he fought there was never a winner and a loser. There was only a survivor.

Dean had all of the advantages. If you were going to make it out of this, you needed help from Sam. Your brain ran through likely scenarios. If Sam was running from Dean, it meant that he needed a plan b to fall back on. He wouldn't simply hide while he knew you were alone while Dean was loose. Sam's next step would be to try and find you. The dungeon would be the first place he would check. When he didn't find you there, he would have to go searching. He would check places where Dean could stash you or places you would run to in an emergency next. Your best bet was that Sam would eventually hear the commotion and come running.

Dean was on top of you before you could stand. His eyes flicked back to green and you swallowed. Looking up into pools of black would've been so much easier. Dean's voice was filled with venom. "I expected Sam and Cass to come looking for us. Hell, I was prepared for the day they actually hunted me down and took you away." Dean's hand fisted in your shirt. You felt yourself lifted slightly off of the floor. "What I wasn't prepared for was _you._ You ruined everything!" The first blow landed hard on your cheek and he let you fall back to the floor.

"I was scared, Dean! I didn't know what else to do." It was the truth.

"So, let me get this straight. You sold me out because you were _scared_?!" His eyebrows arched up, his voice filled with outrage. Fear was never an excuse in the Winchester family. They lived their lives in it and never allowed themselves to give in. It's why they were the bravest men dead or alive. You watched him pull his fist back again. This time you were able to bring your hands up in an effort to block him. He landed a few more punches to your face and abdomen before he paused.

"Tell me why I was wrong." You looked up into his eyes with defiance. "Because you'd never hurt me?" You let him see your pain and heartache.

It didn't have the intended effect. His face contorted in rage. "That was _before_! I stood up to Crowley for you again and again and _again_. I kept you safe and I _never_ would've touched you! I even let you go. I gave you a chance after you betrayed me. I left you alone on the condition that I never had to see you again." You couldn't help but flinch back at his words. " _You're_ the one that looked for me! Well, here I am!"

"Dean… Please, don't do this." It was a whispered plea. You gave up hiding behind a mask. It didn't matter anymore. "This isn't you." A tear slid down the side of your face and into your hairline.

"That's where you're wrong. This is just the new and improved version." He punched you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you. "I am done with looking out for you. And I shoulda stopped a long time ago. It was always something between the supernatural bullshit or yourself."

After that, you continued to try and defend yourself against his attacks. But it became harder and harder with his speech still echoing in your brain. One blow sent your world spinning and made your ears ring. Your vision blurred and for a moment, you saw something impossible. Time slowed down. You took in a sharp breath. Andy was crouched right next to you, close enough to touch. He was frantically yelling and screaming something you couldn't hear.

"Andy…?" Your voice broke on his name. The last time you had his name out loud was when you told Dean about your mom.

His voice grew louder. "Fight, Y/N! GODDAMNIT FIGHT!" Andy's expression was full of desperation, anger, and grief.

You turned your head back to face Dean. He had held back at first a little. You'd seen what he could do to someone in the past. Now, the blows were coming harder and swifter. He obviously wanted to drag this out or else he would've made use of the hammer. You thought of the two grim realities that faced you now. Either Dean would end up beating you to death here, or he would keep you alive so he could do whatever he wanted later.

You could taste your own blood now. Andy's tall frame stood over the two of you and lingered in your peripheral vision. It pushed you over the edge and a switch in your brain flipped. _I will not die like this. And I will not let Dean become that kind of monster._ You clasped your hands together and swung your arms towards the side of Dean's head with every bit of strength you could muster.

It caught him off guard and knocked him off balance a little. You were able to twist your body and kick his weight off of you. You rolled to the side and frantically struggled to get away from him. Dean's hand wrapped around your foot and he started to pull you back towards him. You kept fighting and called out for your brother. But he was no longer there.

You heard loud footsteps running towards you. Sam's appeared from around the corner. His eyes widened when he saw you and Dean.

"Dean! _Stop_!" Sam began running towards you. Dean's grip disappeared. You looked behind you and saw he was already standing. He'd picked up the hammer. For a moment, you were afraid it was for you.

"Done playing hide and seek, Sammy?" He stepped over you with barely a glance down. "Don't go anywhere, Y/N. I'll be back for you." His promise sent a chill down your spine.

Sam slowly retreated. His eyes lingered on you and you realized he was going to try and draw Dean off. He wanted you to get away with or without him. Sam broke into a run and Dean chased after him.

You let out a small cry of momentary relief and anguish. Gripping the wall, you tried to stand. Your entire body ached and you didn't make it five steps before you stumbled back to the floor. Even if your legs weren't shaking, dizziness was taking over and causing the world to twist and spin.

You managed to get up and drag yourself further down the hallway before collapsing again. The adrenaline was wearing off. Moving became more and more of a struggle. You were starting to feel exhaustion settling in.

"Y/N!" The voice didn't register at first. You felt a hand on your shoulder. A small whimper escaped your lips and you instantly pulled away out of instinct and fear. The touch quickly returned and you felt an arm gently wrap around you.

"It's ok. It's just me, Y/N." He spoke again. There was no mistaking it this time.

Relief flooded you. "Cass…?" You groaned as you turned to face him. He was kneeling next to you and pulled you into his arms. Castiel was good. Having him here meant you were safe. "H—hey, Featherbrain." You gave him a small smile that he didn't return.

His face was full of concern, brows drawn together. He looked at you and touched you as if you might break. His angel blade was resting on the floor next to you. Castiel rarely touched you while holding a weapon. You never discussed it with him, it was just something you noticed soon after meeting him.

Castiel glanced at the handcuffs. A brief look of disgust crossed his features. His eyes shot back up to yours. "Where's the key?" There was a deadly edge to his gentle tone.

 _Key?_ Everything hurt and you were in a bit of a daze. Focusing was increasingly difficult and you didn't understand what he meant.

After a moment he spoke again, more urgently as he held your gaze. "Y/N. I need you to tell me, where is the key to the handcuffs?" Desperation carried through his voice now more than anything.

Cass only used this tone with you when something was painfully important to him. _Focus! He needs you._ You closed your eyes in an effort to focus on his question while piecing together your fragmented thoughts. "Back pocket…" Another groan escaped your lips. "If—if Dean d—didn't take it…" You weren't in a position to care about him searching your pockets even if you were in the right frame of mind. It would feel good to get the cuffs off.

Cass swiftly found the key and freed your hands. Your awareness drifted in and out as he moved. There was something you wanted to tell him… He let you rest against his body for a moment while he shrugged his trench coat off. He then quietly wrapped it around you. His sleeve brushed against your face and you hissed in pain. "I'm sorry." A streak of red appeared as he pulled his arm away. _I must really look like shit._ He gave the cuffs a look of disgust before tucking them in his pocket.

The fresh wave of pain gave you a moment of clarity. "Dean… He got loose." You had to warn him in case Dean returned.

There was a look of sadness in his eyes. "I know. Hold this." Cass took your right hand and wrapped it around the angel blade. He scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing and swiftly carried you towards your room. You gritted your teeth and groaned against the movement. Castiel muttered another apology. His voice sounded like he was trying to be reassuring as he spoke, but you couldn't be sure. Every time you blinked, the darkness seemed to last longer and longer.

Something was bothering you in the back of your mind. You struggled to pinpoint what it was as he carried you. _How is he not falling apart…?_ The last you'd heard, Castiel was dangerously low on grace. On the phone, he'd been sounding like death warmed over. "You're better… H—how? Wha happen'd?" You looked at him in confusion as he opened the door.

"It's… complicated. I'll explain later." Cass gently placed you on your bed.

You nodded as much as your aching head would allow. While your weren't a fan of Cass keeping secrets or anything that combined the terms 'angel' and 'complicated', your abilities to keep up in a conversation were diminishing and there were bigger issues right now. "Dean." You took in a sharp breath. "H-he went after Sam… Please help them." You gripped his arm weakly and gave him a pleading look.

"I will." Castiel looked at you with sympathy and promised before moving surely and swiftly. "After I make sure you're safe." He cut his hand open with a knife on your dresser. You became vaguely aware you were still holding his angel blade. This time, the darkness took you for more than a moment. "…hear me?" When you opened your eyes, he was standing above you. There were sigils painted in blood on your door as well as a line of salt.

"Huh?" You squinted at him in the dim light.

"I've warded your room. You'll be safe here. Do not leave until either Sam or I come back for you." He stood and stared you down. Cass knew you too well. He wouldn't leave until you agreed to stay put.

"Cass—"

You heard him sigh deeply. "Please, Y/N. I cannot help Sam and Dean _and_ watch over you."

He had a point. "T—take it." You held the angel blade out to him shakily.

"You need protection." Castiel gently pushed your arm down.

"Under the bed…" The stashed angel blade wasn't hard to remember. It was a constant fixture in your room after what happened to Kevin…

Castiel retrieved the blade. He knew you and Dean kept a knife under your pillow. He didn't know about your extra precautions. As much as he was in full warrior mode, he couldn't hide the grief and sadness for you in his eyes.

A loud crash made you both jump. The two of you glanced at the door before Castiel cast you an anxious look. "Stay here." He kept his voice low. There was another crash, closer this time, followed by a shout you couldn't understand. For the smallest moment, Cass hesitated before rushing out of your room and closing the door.

Rising to a sitting position was painful. You sat motionless with your eyes on the door, listening for anything that would give you a clue to what was happening outside. The tension was eating away at you and you were too dazed to do anything. There was more shouting. You struggled to make it out over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

"…tired… these games… Sammy!" It was definitely Dean.

Again, you waited to hear more and realized you were holding your breath. It felt like hours, but it was probably moments. A third crash sent you gasping and reeling backwards. This one sounded like it was right outside. _That sounds like a hammer…_ You placed the sound to the source finally. The thought was quickly chased with unwelcome images of Sam, Dean, Cass, and blood. Lots of blood.

" _Oh God…_ " You held your head in your hands and let out a small whimper. A desperate urge to panic clawed away at your chest. Waves of nausea threatened to wash over you.

You fought the nausea easily enough. But you were beaten and exhausted. You felt your breaths coming in quicker and faster. There were no tears or sobbing. Instead, your whole body shook with the effort of trying to withstand the pain you felt. Your entire world was burning and spinning out of control. Vaguely, you were aware of the fact that you were completely shattering.

 _Not now._ It was that low and confident voice that came from the deepest part of your brain. It was the same voice that made you sharp on hunts and kept you alive from minute to minute when that was all the time you thought you had left. _They need you. Do. Not. Break._

Your eyes opened and you drew in a deep breath. Something inside of you shifted and you shoved the last minute down in the deepest pit you could find inside of yourself. Promise or no promise, you would not leave your family to die. Not again. _Not ever again._

You left Cass's angel blade on your bed. Deep down, you knew you could never use it. Moving was utter agony physically. You leaned heavily on the furniture until you accomplished your mission of making it to the door.

As you grasped the handle, you heard the muffled sounds of Sam and Dean speaking outside. When you opened the door, your heart leapt into your throat.

Sam's back was to you, but you could clearly see Dean standing in front of him. The hammer was in the wall near Sam's head. He had the demon blade against Dean's neck. Sam was breathing heavily and you could feel terror rolling off of him.

Dean saw you and made eye contact. "Do it." You weren't sure if he was directing the statement at you, Sam, or both of you. But it sent a chill down your spine. He looked back at Sam, daring him to make a move. "It's all you."

 _No… no no no no NO!_ "Sammy, don't!" The desperate plea left your lips before you were even fully aware of what you were saying.

Sam was unaware of your presence. It startled him enough to make him lower the knife and turn to face you. He looked so scared and lost.

Unfortunately, Dean saw this as his opening and took it. He struck at the back of Sam's head. Sam turned on his heels to fight back, but it was too late.

"D—Dean!" You could feel your voice failing you again. Your body trembled with the effort of standing even with your grip on the doorframe.

You didn't even phase him. Dean delivered two hard blows to Sam before shoving him into the wall. The demon blade fell from his hands. Sam slowly sank to the floor. He wasn't unconscious, but he was stunned enough that Dean had no problem making it past him while he tried to recover.

Dean looked at you and sighed. "Didn't I tell you not to move? That's your big problem, Y/N. You never do as you're told." He roughly grabbed your hands and pulled you forward.

The move sent you stumbling. Dean caught you in his arms. He turned and pinned you against the opposite wall. The motion and impact were enough to disorient you. His hands fisted in your shirt. You felt the floor disappear beneath you.

His face twisted in anger. "One way or another, you're going to learn." Dean practically snarled at you and you couldn't help the way you flinched away.

"Dean, pl—please…" You couldn't hold back the pain and fear you felt. Hot tears ran down your face. "Let me go!" Normally, you would've _hated_ the way your voice trembled. But right now, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

It didn't matter that you looked and sounded weak. The only things that mattered were Dean, Sam, and Cass. You couldn't help glancing at Sam. He looked back at you with equal parts fear and determination. Your heart ached for him as he kept trying to stand. Dean really had hit him hard and wasn't holding back.

"I wonder…" Dean's voice quickly consumed your focus. His forearm pressed against your throat. "Is choking anything like drowning? You'll have to let me know."

Your eyes went wide and you took in a sharp breath. "No! Dean, please no! D—don't—" His arm dug against you painfully and you couldn't breathe. The raw panic that you'd temporarily pushed down came rushing back to the surface.

It was like an out of body experience. Your body went on autopilot. Desperately, you tried to gasp for air as your lungs burned. You were vaguely aware of your attempts to fight back and free yourself until your limbs felt too heavy to move. Blood was rushing in your ears. Dizziness assaulted you. The darkness on the edges of your vision was taking over. Part of you was certain you were going to die. You sought out Dean's eyes one last time in a final, desperate plea to the universe and attempt to connect with him.

His green eyes faded until there was only darkness. It might've been the demon, or it might've been you losing consciousness. You were prepared to give up. Then, it was like there was a flash of blue.

Suddenly, you heard someone gasping and coughing. Dean was screaming. His name caught against your throat painfully and you realized you were the person gasping. You managed to open your eyes. As you did so, you saw Castiel holding Dean back from behind. He struggled in Cass's arms to no avail. Castiel was stronger than Dean.

Glowing blue eyes shifted from Dean to you. You struggled to understand what he was saying over Dean's screams. Your eyes trained on his lips. He seemed to be repeating the same thing, but you could only read the words 'ok' and 'over'. It was enough for you to allow yourself to relax slightly.

Once you let yourself go a little bit, it wasn't long before you felt yourself fading in and out. There were shorter and shorter moments of awareness before you were totally gone. Sam's voice calling your name, the concerned look in his eyes, his hands carefully touching you, and the feeling of being carried until there was nothing.

You felt something cold against your face in the void. Gradual awareness started tugging you back.

"…with me…?" There was a voice in the darkness. "Y/N?"

Pain hit you as you surfaced. A moan escaped your lips.

"Easy…" There was a familiar touch on your upper arm. "Can you open your eyes?"

"Ugh…" You struggled to obey.

"Come on, Y/N. You can do it."

"Sam…?" You managed to squint at him for a moment.

He gave you a genuine broad smile. "Hey. Welcome back." There was an ugly bruise across his cheekbone and another along his jawline.

"You ok…?" You were still out of it. Everything sounded like it was coming from far away.

You reached up to touch his face out of genuine care and worry. Sam caught your hand in his. "Don't worry about me. I'm alright."

You scrunched up your face in a rare show of raw pain. "Hurts…" Your brain was still struggling.

"I know." Sam paused. "Here, take these."

When you looked back up at him, he was offering you a few pills and a cup of water. You were more than happy to accept them though they tore against your throat.

His smile diminished. "It doesn't look like anything is broken. But it's still… pretty bad." You glanced to the side and noticed a bloody rag sitting on your nightstand with a first aid kit.

You remembered fractions of being with Dean in the hallway. At first, everything was jumbled together and out of order. Memories finally managed to break through your haze and everything hit you at once. You struggled in an attempt to sit up, but Sam quickly stilled you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't move." His voice was full of worry. "You need to take it easy."

"Dean? Cass? Wha—what happened?" Your mouth went dry as a number of scenarios crossed your mind.

"It's ok." Sam's tone was reassuring and calm. "Cass showed up just in time. We've got Dean back under lockdown."

"He won't—" You swallowed hard, as if you could swallow down what was bothering you. "He won't kill Dean. Will he?"

Sam glanced away. For a moment there was a crack in his calm exterior. You immediately braced yourself for the worst.

"He's going to try finishing the ritual." He was giving you his best poker face, but you knew better—even in this state. There was more.

"And if the ritual doesn't work…?"

He let out a heavy sigh in response.

 _Not good._ The emergency switches started flipping in your brain and granted you some temporary strength. "Tell me he won't kill Dean." You lowered your tone as you stared Sam down.

"Cass is the only one of us that can do what's necessary." Sam refused to meet your eyes as he said the words. There was a heavy silence in the air. His statement hit you like a brick wall.

"No." You couldn't help the deadliness of your voice. "You are Winchesters and this family—you, Dean, Cass, and I—we don't quit. If the ritual doesn't work, we—we try something else. Dean is Castiel's best friend. I'm _not_ going to let Cass, or anyone else, kill him." You could feel your body shaking and you weren't sure if it was due to you beginning to lose control of your emotions or that temporary boost beginning to leave you already.

"Y/N… There isn't anything else. You saw Dean, he's out of control. If Cass had gotten here any later…" Sam trailed off and looked at you for a moment. You could see the sadness in his eyes. The situation was ripping him apart inside. "Dean wouldn't want us dead." That one statement held so much grief.

You shut your eyes tightly. Sam and Cass had formed a plan. The odds of you getting either of them on your side now were nonexistent. You felt a piece of yourself break inside. "GODDAMNIT! _FUCK_!"

Sam flinched at your outburst. Then he saw your tears and anguish. He hesitated briefly before deciding to wrap his good arm around you. You let him pull you into his chest and took the comfort he offered.

"You know, you suggested the blood ritual. If it weren't for you, we'd have nothing to go on." Castiel's coat was still hanging from one of your shoulders. Sam adjusted it so it wrapped around you once more. "Without you, Dean wouldn't have even had a chance."

His words were comforting and kind. But Sam was smart. Deep down, you knew that he would've been able to come up with the blood ritual as a solution on his own.

He didn't hold back on giving you the heavy duty pain medications. They helped pull you under faster. Sam held you until you drifted off again. He gently set you back down before finishing cleaning and bandaging you up. He promised Cass that he would take care of you and wait here until it was time for the eighth injection. It wasn't a hard promise to make. He needed a break from Dean and you needed someone watching out for you right now.

Anxiety and exhaustion ate away at him in the silence. As he sat on the bed next to you, he prayed that the ritual would work. Sam couldn't look at you and imagine an alternative. It absolutely had to work or else… He looked away and ran a hand over his face. If it didn't work, he wouldn't just be losing Dean.

At some point, he fell asleep. When Sam woke up less than a couple hours later, Castiel was standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder. He nodded at your sleeping form before signaling Sam to follow him out into the hallway. Sam nodded back in response. A part of him felt a little thankful that the pain meds knocked you out for this.

When he was sure their conversation wouldn't wake you, Castiel looked up at Sam and spoke as they walked to the dungeon. "It's time, Sam."

"Yeah. I figured." Sam ran a hand through his hair. "How is he? Did he… did he say anything to you?"

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. "Dean passed out again while you were away. He was still unconscious when I left." The two men walked in silence until Cass stopped just outside of the dungeon. "Sam, are you ready for this?"

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "No. No, Cass, I'm not. But that doesn't matter."

He nodded. "I understand."

Sam had no doubt that Cass did. He knew the angel well enough not to return the question. "Right. I guess we just have to have faith that this'll work."

Cass was silent for a moment. "I have faith in Dean." With that, he stepped forward. Sam followed behind him. Castiel reached for a syringe.

Sam got there first and shook his head. "I'll do it."

Cass stepped back and watched him give Dean the final injection. After it was done, Sam let out a heavy sigh. All there was left to do was wait and see.

"Even after we gave him all that blood, he still didn't want to be cured. He didn't want to be human." Sam confided to Castiel as they waited.

"Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but… also such profound pain. This is easier."

Sam saw why he said he had faith in Dean. Dean never took the easy way out. He was a fighter. Oddly, the statement gave him a little bit of hope.

Dean started to show signs of waking up. Sam grabbed the flask of holy water and braced himself for whatever happened next. His heart felt like lead when he saw Dean look up at him with black eyes. He watched them turn back to green as Dean became more alert. Both Sam and Cass looked at Dean skeptically until he finally spoke.

"You look worried, fellas."

They both glanced at each other. There was a silent agreement, they had to make sure he wasn't tricking them. Sam tossed holy water into Dean's face. Dean knew what was coming and honestly looked surprised when it didn't burn.

A huge weight lifted off of Sam and he couldn't help but smile at his brother. "Welcome back, Dean."

Dean glanced between his brother and best friend. They both looked pleased. Everything still felt a little foggy. There was something bothering him. _Where's Y/N?_ His memory was like swiss cheese right now. Dean remembered being a demon. He searched the back of his mind and the few snippets that came easily to him right away hit him like an avalanche.

Shock and horror swept across his face. "Oh God… What've I done…?"

 **There is much more coming. Please review and give me your feedback. It will only make this fanfic better for everyone. I've been known to take suggestions and reviewers get special treats as well as my appreciation.**


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: Hello friends! Thanks for your patience on this chapter. It took a lot of thought, time, editing, and careful consideration before it felt like it was right and ready to post. I would like to thank my followers, reviewers, and the lovely peddlergirl as always for being the best beta and friend I could ask for.**

"Hey."

"How are they doing?"

"Y/N's still out cold. But knowing her, I bet it won't be long until she wakes up." Sam shook his head and looked back up at Cass. "Dean's uh… Still a little out of it. But better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing—the blood cure and the…" Sam paused and absentmindedly rubbed at his jaw. "All of it—really wrecked him, you know?"

"Yeah."

"On the plus side, Dean's hungry again, so I'm just gonna go pick him up a big ol' bag of crap food and stuff it in his face myself before Y/N is awake again. Would you keep an eye on them?"

"Yeah. Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You realize—one problem is solved, but more than one remains. Dean is no longer a demon. That's true. But the mark of Cain—that, he still has, and sooner or later, that's going to be an issue. And Y/N—"

Sam held out a hand and cut Castiel off. He could only deal with so much at once. "You know what, Cass? I'm beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? So I'm just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol and pick something up for Y/N. And then I'm gonna get drunk."

* * *

Dean was setting the picture frames back up in his room when there was a knock at the door. "Yeah."

Cass walked in and looked Dean over. "You look terrible."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to lie every now and again." Dean knew he looked terrible. He felt worse.

"No, it wouldn't kill me. I just… you—"

"Forget it. Well, you, on the other hand… looking good. So… are you back?"

"At least temporarily. Yeah, it's a long story—Crowley, stolen grace. There's a female in a nearby motel. Another time."

"Well, thank you for, um… stepping in when you did. What does Sam say?"

"I'm sure Sam knows that whatever you said, or what you did, that wasn't really you. It certainly wasn't _all_ you."

"I tried to kill him, Cass."

"Dean, you two have been through so much. Look, you're brothers. It'd take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away."

"You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?" Dean ran a hand over his face. He sat on the bed and let out a breath. "And Y/N? Is she…?" Dean swallowed down a wave of nausea and shut his eyes as a few new flashes of what he did to you found their way in to his memory.

Castiel nodded. Watching over you was next on his list after checking in with Dean. "She's resting right now. Sam said that she would probably wake up soon. I was going to sit in her room until then. Would you like to join me?"

"No." Dean's response was instant.

Castiel turned is head to the side in puzzlement. It was unlike Dean to leave you alone while you were injured and he rarely denied your company. He was shocked Dean wasn't with you right now. "What? I don't understand…"

"I just… I don't think it's a good idea, Cass." Dean broke eye contact. He started staring at the bandages covering his bloody knuckles. "Actually… I was hoping for a favor."

"What is it, Dean?" Cass stepped forward and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"This… It's too much." Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Every time I close my eyes… I see the things I did to her. I remember what I did… what I was going to do." He looked up at Castiel. A single tear fell. "I can only imagine what it's been doing to her—what it's still going to do to her." Dean's voice trembled slightly. "Y/N shouldn't have to carry that burden. She doesn't talk about the past much, but whatever she can go back to has to be better than _this_. Anything else is better… I—I was wondering if you could use your mojo on her like you did for Lisa and Ben. Please, Cass. I'm begging you, man."

Dean's plea caught Castiel off guard. He stared at Dean in shock for a moment before answering. "No, Dean."

Dean opened his mouth to argue. Cass held up a hand, as he continued. "Even if I _could_ alter her memories, I wouldn't do it." His mouth was set in a hard line.

"What do you mean?" Dean knew that you and Castiel were close. He never really understood why but he didn't question it either over the years.

"Even if I had enough grace, I made a promise. I swore long ago that I wouldn't go into her memories or read her mind uninvited. I will not break her trust or that promise, Dean. Not even for you." Your trust and friendship had to be earned. Cass knew what it was worth and wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He still wasn't willing to give up on the idea. "Then I'll find a way. Kevin's mom isn't the only one that can find a witch on craigslist. Y/N would be better off without this whole freaking mess." He pressed a hand to his temple.

"Dean... You don't understand…" He gave Dean a pained expression, caught between the knowledge of your past and the subtext he was managing to pick up from Dean.

He rose and his gaze shot back towards Castiel. "Tell me she wouldn't have a better life, Cass." Dean squinted at him slightly. "Unless there's something you know that I don't—"

Castiel let out a deep sigh and nodded. "There is." He cleared his throat and continued. "The night I returned from purgatory—the first time I met Y/N—I caught glimpses into her past."

Dean's eyes widened. This was news to him. All this time, Castiel knew your secrets and carried them. Secrets that Dean had to simply wait for or find out about. "You're telling me that all this time—"

"She made me swear never to tell you or Sam what I saw. Understand, Dean?" Castiel let out a deep breath. "You know how she is. Arguing with her would've been impossible and I have no doubt that she would've disappeared instead of killing me like she threatened. I could feel her intentions without reading her thoughts. Just… Trust me when I say that it wouldn't be better. You, Sam, and I are all she has."

Dean was silent for a moment. He rubbed a hand over his face as he cast a sideways glance at Castiel. "You shoulda told us, Cass."

"Dean, I—"

"I don't care, Cass!" Dean's eyes were full of pain. "I don't care what kind of threats or promises she made you. She's taken _years_ to tell me probably less than half of what you know. The things she didn't tell me, I got to find out. You might have seen her past, but you haven't seen her pain. You haven't laid awake at night because you can only watch and you can never fix it!"

"I am aware of the nightmares, Dean. If I could take that pain away from her, I would have long ago. The same applies to you and Sam of course." Castiel gave Dean a mournful look and Dean knew he meant it.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and paced. "It's more than the nightmares, Cass. It's—" He paused briefly in a realization. Cass tilted his head to the side in puzzlement. "Wait… You don't know?"

"Know what, Dean? What's going on?" Deep concern marked his features as he sensed that there was something Dean wasn't telling him, a puzzle piece that you had kept secret.

Dean honestly considered telling Castiel everything for a moment. Then, your face flashed through his mind. It was an expression of betrayal—something that you hadn't really shown him until this summer. The freshest memory was only hours old. He let out a heavy sigh. "I can't do that to her right now. You can try asking her later, but I doubt she'll say a word. I've already betrayed too much of her trust. I—"

"I know, Dean. I hope she opens up to me—after she heals. I'm supposed to be watching over her until Sam gets back. You can stay here, but I hope you choose to join me." Castiel left Dean in silence and walked towards your room.

The room was dark and you were still unconscious. You managed to look mildly peaceful beneath the bruises and blood. Castiel found Dean's jacket draped over a chair. He rolled it up before gently tucking it under your head as a pillow. His own coat still covered you like a blanket and he adjusted it slightly. His eyes scanned your body and took in every cut and bruise that he couldn't heal right now until he couldn't take it anymore and glanced away. Sam made it sound like Dean wasn't out for long when they discussed it. He sped all the way to the bunker and still cursed himself for not pushing it and driving faster.

As he glanced to the floor next to him, he found books and stacks of paper he neglected earlier. The books appeared to be all about angel lore. Cass picked up a few pieces of paper and inspected them. They were covered with your writing, questions, and half-formed plans. It was very clear that you had been researching angel grace. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what you were planning and the work you'd already put into it. "Oh, Y/N…" His brow furrowed as he glanced back up at you.

While he was worried about how far you would go for him, a part of him was touched. You were the only one that cared about his dwindling grace other than Hannah and Crowley. Hannah's morals prevented her from doing anything outside of offering moral support and Crowley was very clear about Castiel simply having more value alive than dead to him. You were the only one that seemed to care down to your core. The last thing Cass wanted was to add to the burdens you carried already.

Judging by a few of the notes, you were clearly willing to hunt down and kill angels if that's what it took. Cass was glad that Crowley had beaten you to the punch on that. It meant he could be here to stop Dean and protect you. It was only a temporary solution and Castiel realized that he would have to talk with you later. He didn't want you killing angels and putting yourself in harm's way more than necessary.

The rise and fall of your chest and the soft sounds of your breathing helped Cass reassure himself that somehow, all of this was going to be alright. Usually the stillness of humans sleeping didn't bother him, but his guilt, protectiveness, and concern for you remained present. There was also the fact that you had managed to keep some secret buried deeply enough that he had never seen it. Judging by Dean's behavior, it was something painful beyond words.

Castiel continued to watch over you in silence until soft, slow footsteps could be heard in the hall and stopped at the doorway. "Hello, Dean." He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Dean was the only one that would approach your room with reluctance.

There was a moment of silence and Cass wondered if he would come inside. "Maybe we should move her, ya know? So she doesn't have to see this—at least until I get it fixed." His voice was soft and lacked the confidence it usually held. Dean's eyes remained on the hallway walls that bore damage from his rampage until he stepped through the doorway.

Dean maneuvered it as closely to your bed as he could. Cass nodded in acknowledgement. "We can ask her when she wakes up."

Dean knew it would be bad. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he began to see how bad. He let out a heavy breath as he realized that Castiel's coat did a good job of doubling as a blanket and there would be more he wasn't seeing. A tear slid down one cheek. "I'm so sorry." His whisper was so silent Castiel couldn't make out what was said.

Your hair had managed to remain halfway in a hair tie still with the other half wild and loose. He had spent a few minutes looking at you and thinking. Dean ached to touch you more than anything and yet he felt guilty for the desire. He thought of over a dozen different ways just to feel your skin and every time his mind was immediately flooded with memories of him beating you.

Eventually, he settled on gently freeing the rest of your hair from the hair tie. Dean knew that if you were conscious, you wouldn't be able to stand it like that. He was focused on your breathing as he moved slowly, smoothing out your hair and brushing a few strands of it away from your face. "It's always been so soft." Dean paused, deep in thought. "Cafuné…" It was barely above a whisper. "I know enough Latin for an exorcism or a spell, but that word… It's the first word I memorized because it's beautiful." Dean spoke to Castiel but didn't remove his eyes from you.

"She whispered it to me once. We were on a hunt. It was a vengeful spirit. We thought it was tied to a jacket it had been buried in. Get the bones and the body in one shot, it was supposed to be easy. So Sammy and I dug up the body to salt and burn but Y/N had this hunch. Y/N thought it was connected to this wrecked motorcycle in the local junkyard." Dean let out a dry laugh. "Out of all people, I should've known she was right about the motorcycle. We finished up at the graveyard but when I tried to call and let her know it was taken care of, she didn't answer her phone. All three of us know hitting voicemail is the same as getting an S.O.S. I don't remember driving, I just remember getting there. Her car was parked outside of the gates. She'd managed to light up the motorcycle, but otherwise we just had flashlights. Other than her car out front, there was no sign of her. We called out and Cass, I swear, I was so scared that it had gotten her. Sammy got it together and started calling her phone again. I woulda' torn that place apart looking for her, the only reason we found her as quickly as we did was we heard her phone ringing."

He reached forward to place his hand on yours before withdrawing it quickly. Your wrists were red from the cuffs digging into them and from what he could see, your arms and hands were covered in bruises and a few cuts from defending yourself. Dean inhaled suddenly as he caught a flash of himself on top of you, about to land another blow. Some memories returned instantly, others were slower and hit like a freight train.

Castiel noticed the change in his posture and breathing. He tilted his head sideways in concern. "Dean, are you alright?"

He shakily exhaled before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, Cass. I'm fine. Just… remembering."

"You can touch her, Dean. She won't break." Castiel approached his friend and tried to be reassuring.

For the first time Dean turned his head to face Cass. His red rimmed eyes were filled with self-loathing and sadness. "Yeah except I'm the one that nearly broke her! I love her more—" Dean realized he was beginning to raise his voice and started again. "I love her. It's all still coming back… But I'm pretty sure I wasn't going to kill her in the end. I was going to keep her alive to torture… _for fun_."

The angel sighed. He was surrounded by pain and unable to fix any of it. "That wasn't you, Dean… I know it, Sam knows it, and I'm sure Y/N knows it. Dean, you— _the real you_ —would die for any of us. You already have—more than once."

Looked down for a moment, silent. "Then answer a question for me, Cass. You've lived a long time. Was it easier for you to die or to live with every mistake and failure?"

It was a hard question that he was unsure how to respond. "I don't have all of the answers, Dean. But trust me when I say hold her hand."

Dean's eyes shifted back to you, filled with fear. He didn't trust himself or find himself worthy enough. Despite this, a deep urge to touch you, hold you, to do anything that would make this whole goddamn nightmare stop kept flooding his brain and pulled on every instinct to stay away he had. Every time his world was in flames, you were the flood that stopped it from consuming him. This time, it wasn't just his world. He realized that you loved him enough to stay and burn with him if everything else failed. Dean owed you this and so much more no matter how he felt. His touch on your skin was gentle and light.

Castiel allowed Dean to simply sit with you before prompting Dean into telling the rest of the story. "You were searching for her in the junkyard. Sam started calling her cellphone. What happened next?"

He took a moment and looked lost before he remembered what he had been telling Cass. "The bastard put up a fight and in the end threw her on top of a stack of four of five junked cars. When I first saw her… There aren't words, Cass. She was unconscious and all I could see was her blood." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face before continuing. Castiel offered him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

"All I could think about was getting to her. Sam was yelling something—telling me to be careful or slow down so I didn't tip the cars but nothing could've stopped me. I carried her to the impala and told Sam to drive her car and meet us back at the motel. She didn't wake up on the way or when I brought her inside. I'd gotten her pretty cleaned up and realized most of the blood was from a head wound and a few cuts by the time Sam got back. Don't get me wrong Cass, Y/N got pretty beat up but she didn't look like she was auditioning to be in Carrie anymore."

"I think I remember seeing her after that." Castiel's voice was low as he tried to recall which time Dean was talking about. The Winchesters did a good job of keeping you out of the line of fire, but you were still… you.

"She probably would've been fine in the motel room resting for a few days, but seeing her like that scared me. Sam packed while I patched her up. When we finished, I tossed him the keys. He didn't ask questions or argue about it, Sam knew I just needed to get her home. I slid in the back with, Y/N, her head rested on my lap. She was really out of it when she started to come to, I don't think she even remembers any of it. Once Y/N woke up, there was only one thing she said to me. She reached up and stroked my hair before running her hand down my cheek. She said 'Cafuné' and smiled at me. Even then, she smiled. Meanwhile, I was worried that there was something more to the case or that she was trying to tell me that there was something else wrong with her. I nearly lost my mind when she didn't answer me and passed out again. I asked Sam if he knew what it meant. He didn't know and started driving faster than he already was. I grabbed my phone and I think I misspelled it a few times until I finally found something that made sense." Dean rested his head in his hands, suddenly overcome with grief. "It's a word for running your fingers through your lover's hair." His voice broke slightly.

"That doesn't surprise me." Castiel glanced at you with fondness. A look of sadness crossed his features when he glanced at your notes and research in the corner again. The angel had no doubt that you would do anything to save a loved one at whatever cost. He imagined you looking up at a worried Dean in the backseat, your only thought being to comfort him and tell him you loved him despite nearly being the next victim on a hunt.

"I called Charlie when we got back to the bunker and asked her to pick up Y/N's car. You should've seen it when Y/N woke up though. She told me what happened—or at least what she could remember of it—and I gave her the short version of us finding her. She was happy and quiet for a little bit before asking what happened to her car." Dean let out a small chuckle. "You know she loves that car, Cass. I'd seen her angry and we'd argued but this was on another level when she heard me say we had to leave her car behind. It was like I was looking at a vengeful spirit for a minute until I told her that Sam and Charlie were bringing it back."

His chuckle faded and an oppressive silence filled the bunker. Dean continued to watch over you. His eyes seemed to find something new every time he looked over your body. Cuts and bruises were only the beginning of the evidence pointing to the hell that he'd put you through. As Dean noted the obvious, he also noticed things like the bags under your eyes and the weight you'd lost—not that you had any to lose in the first place.

Castiel could feel the guilt radiating off of Dean. It consumed Dean's features and filled the silent atmosphere of the bunker. Cass sat there, both worried for you and Dean at the same time. He found himself at a loss for anything to say that could potentially calm Dean down or ease his troubles. The minutes seemed to drag on longer than they had in thousands of years. The silence, guilt, worry, and sadness that filled the room became more than what Cass could bare and moved him to speak in an attempt to shift the atmosphere.

The angel caught Dean's gaze for a moment before he spoke. "Dean, Y/N, she's strong—you both are. Both of you should be able to heal. Heaven and hell are reasonably back in order. It's quiet out there. Take—"

Dean cut Castiel off with a cutting gaze. "Stop. I don't care. I don't care about heaven, hell, or whatever else is out there. You can stuff the whole "time heals all wounds" crap right now Cass because it doesn't and I don't want to hear it."

This time, the silence didn't last. Your soft voice cut through the air like lightning and startled both Dean and Cass.

* * *

Darkness and nothingness. It consumed everything—thought, pain, time, desire—and there was peace in its wake. The silence faded as the sound of deep voices murmuring indistinctly grew louder. Awareness began as a small spark in the darkness and ignited your consciousness.

 _Voices. Who?_ You narrowed your focus on the sound instead of the conversation. Small realizations fell in to place. _Cass. Cass is here._ You felt relieved, but struggled to remember why. _What happened?_ Bits and pieces returned to you with no particular order to them. It hurt to think. But then again, you were realizing that everything hurt. _Hunting? No, not hunting. The bunker. Sam was patching me up and talking. We were talking about Dean… DEAN!_ A sudden urgency overwhelmed you. Sam said that they would attempt to finish the cure. But if they failed…

You felt a hand on yours as you reached out past the pain to begin taking control of your limbs. It wasn't smooth like Castiel's. You felt callouses and a familiar roughness lightly rubbing your skin. The urgency you felt was replaced with calmness. _Dean._ He was here, he was alive, and nothing else mattered. You clawed your way towards the sound of Cass's voice and you heard Dean interrupt him.

You could make out what he was saying now and although he spoke softly, there was no mistaking the anger and frustration in his voice. _Stop it. No more._

"Dean…" Your voice was raspy and you had more to say but one word was hard enough to manage before a coughing fit tore at your throat.

"Y/N?" You could hear the concern in Dean's voice and the fear underneath. "Can you hear me?"

Before you could answer, his weight on the bed shifted and pain lit up your brain like a Christmas tree. Something between a groan and 'fuck' left your mouth. There wasn't an inch on your body that didn't feel some sort of ache or stabbing pain on one level or another.

"Shit. Shit… Sorry." Dean apologized and you simply squeezed his hand in response until you could focus past the pain once more. "I know, I know it hurts. Cass, where's the first aid kit?"

You could hear the angel moving on the other side of your room. "Over here." There was a rattling sound. "Sam gave her these earlier."

"Y/N, can you open your eyes?"

It was a standard request, he was going to ask sooner or later and you knew from experience that it was almost always painful and difficult at first. But you would open the gates of hell for him if it would just ease his fear and worry a little bit.

A twinge of fear and anxiety began to pull at you and you realized that you were afraid of what you might see. Surely Castiel and Sam had cured Dean. There'd be no other way they would allow him out of the dungeon—let alone in your room.

The room was dimly lit but your head was already pounding and the small amount of light was like gasoline on a fire. You couldn't help but squint them shut again quickly. The next try wasn't as bad. Castiel was at the foot of your bed holding a pill bottle. Dean sat on the right side of the bed next to you. His face was a calm cool mask but he did seem to brighten up slightly when you made eye contact. You knew better though. Too much had happened for things to be this easy and as you looked deeper into Dean's eyes, you knew you were right. You couldn't find any trace of the demon, this was definitely Dean, but it was like he was barely holding back a massive storm inside.

"How long ago did she take that?" Dean's voice was still laced with worry and his eyes never left yours. He was trying to hide it, but you'd learned to pick up his subtleties long ago.

"I'm sure it's worn off. Sam also gave her something to help her sleep as well…" Castiel hesitated as he spoke.

"Right…" Dean sounded as if he had a quiet realization. "Hand me the bottle."

That's when it hit you as well. Sam would've put you to sleep while they were finishing the ritual to spare you from more of Dean's outbursts and seeing him in pain. He knew that they might have to kill Dean, but he couldn't face that reality without Cass. But it wasn't that simple. Cass's reasons for knocking you out ran deeper. He didn't want you awake if the ritual didn't work and you weren't sure how you felt about that.

"Here, take these. They won't—" Dean cast his eyes down as his voice caught in his throat before looking at you again. "You'll be hurting for a while, but they'll take the edge off." There was a roughness to his voice as he fought to hold on to his cool exterior.

You grit your teeth together as Dean helped you sit up enough to take the pills he offered you. Despite their deceptively small size and coating, it felt like you were swallowing gravel. "Thanks." Until they kicked in, talking and moving a lot were going to be a struggle.

Dean seemed to read your mind in this. "Give it a few minutes before you try anything, alright?" His eyes were full of sympathy as he lowered you back down.

Silence filled the room. Whatever Dean and Cass were arguing about, they didn't want you to hear it. Silence wasn't the same as peace. You could tell that both of them wanted to talk to you but neither one wanted an audience. It was Dean that finally looked at Castiel and asked him for privacy.

Cass's eyes shifted from Dean's to yours. "Sam asked me to watch over both of you."

"It's ok." You nodded at Castiel, knowing he wouldn't be far away in case… Your mind drifted back to when Dean's eyes were black and filled with anger involuntarily.

"Hey, you with us?" Dean gently stroked your cheek, startling you.

"M'fine." You realized that you must've spaced out for a moment.

Dean shifted in his seat and let out a sharp sigh. "Maybe this isn't—"

"No." You spoke louder than you meant to and winced. "Please." The thought of him leaving now tore at your heart. Dean was finally back, the real Dean that you loved more than anything. After the summer from hell and the pain of bringing him back, these few moments couldn't be all there was to your reunion.

The heart break you felt must've been as plain as day on your face. Dean studied you for a moment before changing his mind. "Alright. I'll stay."

"I'll, uh, just wait in the library." Castiel gave you one last look before leaving your room.

Dean remained silent for a moment, seemingly deciding what to say.

Whatever Dean needed to say, there was something he needed to hear even more. "S'okay. I forgive you." The painkillers were kicking in but your voice still betrayed the damage to your throat.

The mask shattered and Dean looked like you'd hit him. "Y/N… the things I did to—"

"Not you… was the mark." Your eyes slid to his arm. A flannel shirt covered the mark but you realized it was still there. The ritual would only bring Dean back from being a demon.

"I wish that was true." Dean released your hand, clasping both of his together. "At the end… I can blame that on the mark. But what about this summer? Demons don't have nightmares. Demons don't kill other demons for a human without ulterior motives. But demons sure as hell don't have a problem with killing innocents or—" Dean cut himself off. His eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain and trying to shut it out.

"Dean?" You forced your hand to reach towards him. Your limbs ached in protest.

"I'm fine." His eyes opened and he gently took your hand back in his. "Just some leftover side effects from the ritual I guess." He smiled at you, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I mean, I've had some mean hangovers but this is something else."

You didn't expect talking about everything to be easy, but you could sense Dean closing himself off. "Glad it worked." You returned his smile. "Was scared I ruined it."

"What?" Dean gave you a bewildered look.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Heard Sam talking to Cass and I panicked. Didn't know what I would do if…" You trailed off, reaching for the water on the nightstand so you wouldn't have to finish that statement.

"Here." Dean grabbed the glass and brought it to your lips.

Once you were finished, you spoke more carefully. "I got emotional. If I'd kept my cool, none of this would've happened. Was scared that you wouldn't get dosed in time. Sorry"

Dean looked away, clearly feeling uneasy. The sound of the bunker door opening drew Dean's attention away from you momentarily. "I guess Sammy's back." He stood, facing the door. Sure enough, you could hear Sam speaking with Castiel in the hallway. No doubt Sam was worried and giving Cass grief for leaving you and Dean alone.

You managed to sit up and lean against the headboard. Dean didn't want to talk about this, but you couldn't see any other way to move forward. _Stubborn Winchester._ "Don't do this, Dean."

Dean turned his head towards you briefly and you thought he would sit back down for a moment. Instead, Sam walked through the doorway with Castiel behind him. The concern on Sam's face faded when he saw that you were awake and that Dean was 'fine.' He was holding two greasy brown bags and you hoped he'd been gentle in his selections.

Sam flashed you a smile of relief. "Y/N! Good to see you're with us in the land of the living."

You could see Dean's shoulders stiffen briefly, but he didn't turn around. No one else seemed to notice how the comment affected him. "Yeah, uh… Thanks Sam."

"Oh hey, Dean!" Sam seemed as happy as he'd been recently—which wasn't saying much but it was still better than seeing him anxiously tracking Dean or running for his life.

"What's up?"

"Here." Sam tossed one of the brown bags to Dean. "I got your favorite. There's pie and beer in the fridge."

"That's my cue." He started to leave.

"Dean, wait!" You called after him, giving up hiding any of the desperation in your voice. Dean simply walked out as if he hadn't heard you. Cass and Sam gave you puzzled looks. Dean would never just leave you like that and it was a dead giveaway that something more was wrong, that your reunion hadn't gone as should've.

Sam had the sense to realize Dean shouldn't be alone. "Cass, why don't you go make sure Dean finds the pie I left for him?"

"You clearly told Dean it was in the fridge. I doubt—"

"Cass. Go be with Dean." Sam shot the angel a look that clearly said that this wasn't simply a request to help Dean with food.

"Right. I think I understand." Before Castiel left, he turned in the doorframe to address you. "I'll be returning to speak with you later, Y/N. I'm glad you're healing."

After Cass was out of earshot, you turned to Sam. "He still really needs to work on his social skills."

"Right?" Sam grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Dean gave me some painkillers. Must've been the good stuff because I can move without feeling like I've been hit by a bus. My throat doesn't feel like broken glass." You gave Sam a reassuring grin.

"Good, that's good. Anyway, I got you some food—if you're up for it." Sam placed the other bag on the bed. "Go ahead and take a look. I'll eat whatever you don't want or can't finish."

It was a really sweet and touching gesture, something you imagined you and Andy would do for each other in a happier world. "Thanks, Sam. That's really thoughtful of you."

"No problem, Y/N. It's been a rough… you know." Sam let out a dry chuckle. "So look, I know you and Dean don't need babysitters—"

"Dean needs a babysitter and I don't mind the company right now." It was true and you knew arguing with Sam would be pointless tonight.

"Wow, that was… easier than I was expecting."

You merely shrugged at Sam in response as you began rummaging through the food.

"Pick out something on Netflix to binge watch tonight. I need something to drink after everything so I'll be right back. Do you need anything?"

"Water and I think there's half a pint of ice cream in the freezer. My throat still hurts enough I could use something cold with all this." You gestured to the brown bag.

"Makes sense." Sam nodded at you before leaving.

There was a good variety in the bag to choose from. A burger, fries, a chicken salad sandwich, mystery soup, and something that passed for a salad at this particular drive through. The burger was an automatic no with the greasy flavors and textures. The fries didn't look bad, but the extreme saltiness would only irritate your raw throat more. The chicken sandwich didn't look too bad and you knew Sam would want the salad. Hopefully the soup would be alright too.

Sam returned quickly, as promised with ice cream, water, and a bottle liquor. It was the old stuff that the men of letters kept before the Winchesters rediscovered this place. You raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"What are we watching tonight?" Sam settled into the chair next to your bed.

"I haven't chosen yet." You handed the bag of food to Sam. "The rest is yours." Sam picked out the salad as you expected. "If you're going to drink, we might as well watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia."

"Sure." Sam kicked his shoes off and took a swig directly from the bottle. You noted that while he removed the salad from the bag, it remained untouched on the nightstand.

"Thundergun Express?"

"How about The Nightman Cometh?" Sam clearly wanted to dive right in to the greatest hits.

Sunny was something everyone could agree on and as a result, you and the Winchesters had already seen every episode. Cass sat in on a few but he didn't get it. "You got it." You pressed play and watched Charlie announce he'd written a musical to the gang.

You spent the next half hour or so in silence with Sam. Both of you were only half way paying attention to the show, occasionally chuckling when a favorite joke showed up but not much more. After Sam finished his food, he hit the liquor pretty hard and it was beginning to show. He was slouching and the exhaustion he'd been hiding was as plain as day now.

There was a pang of sadness in your gut as you realized that he purposefully stayed with you instead of Castiel or Dean. Cass wouldn't be able to fully understand what Sam was feeling right now. And Dean… If you were honest, you didn't blame Sam for not feeling like it was safe to get drunk around his brother right now. You _knew_ Dean was human and you could easily remember him being there when you woke up. But when your mind drifted, memories of blood, beatings, and the feeling of choking to death resurfaced and threatened to envelope you. That's why Sam chose to be with you instead. _We are all so fucked._

You let out a deep sigh and considered everything you'd been through. _Fuck it._ "Hey Sammy, pass that over here."

Sam squinted. He had no idea what you were talking about. "Pass what?"

You nodded at the bottle of liquor. "The bottle. I think I'll have what you're having."

His eyes widened and he regained some clarity. "Y/N… Are you sure? I mean, you _never_ —"

"I'm sure, Sammy." You extended your arm and your tone left no room for argument. "We both need to be comfortably numb." His eyes met yours and you gave him a knowing look. Sam looked away when he realized that he'd completely let his façade slip and you'd seen his pain.

"You're not wrong." He handed the bottle to you. The amber liquid sloshed around and while you were ready to let go, you were glad that Sam didn't grab the bottle of absinthe that lurked in the liquor cabinet that the men of letters kept.

"To oblivion then." You held the bottle up to Sam before taking a healthy swig. Fire burned and tore at your throat, but you welcomed it knowing the escape it would bring you tonight. Together, you and Sam burned through a few more episodes with mostly silence and the bottle passing between you. Sam at some point let you start resting your head on his shoulder.

The 'are you still watching' message popped up prompting you to select yes, no, or to choose another show. "Damn judgmental streaming… why don' you lemme binge in peace?" Muttering to yourself, you fumbled with the remote until you heard Sam let out a chuckle. You sat up to talk to him. "What? My binging is my business. I don't pay Netflix for its opinion."

"Nothing. Just funny the way you said it." Sam grinned at you, both of you were pretty drunk now. "Also, Charlie hacked it s' we don't pay it and if we did, you like the recommendations."

"Yeah, well… it's stupid. Stupid and rude. Watcha wanna watch? More Sunny or somethin' else?" The remote twirled in your hand for a moment until your fingers slipped and you dropped it.

"Doesn' matter. Don't care." Sam slouched back even further and ran a hand down his face. You could feel his mood shift. Apparently he still couldn't escape his troubles.

"Sammy?" You leaned in, concerned.

"Nothin' I do matters, Y/N. Couldn't find you, couldn't keep you safe from Dean, couldn't do _anything_ without you and Cass…" He gave you a tortured look that exposed everything Sam had been concealing. "N' Crowley _taunting me._ "

"But Sam… Dean didn' want us found 'nd you saved me from Dean in the hall, patched me up… y'guys both cured 'im." Vaguely you realized you were slurring your words and joining Sam in his melodramatic turns.

"Had t' get D'n offa you… Woulda' killed you." Sam's eyes were watering up at the memories, but you knew he wasn't going to cry. "Glad Cass pulled you outta there. Got the cuffs off." It was obvious he was replaying the events in his mind. His face suddenly screwed up in a look of confusion and concentration.

"Wha' is it?" You took another drink from the nearly empty bottle.

"Y/N… Who's Andy?" He squinted at you like he was trying to decipher the grimoire all over again.

Your brain was in a fog and you couldn't connect the dots. "Whaddya mean?"

"Was looking for you. Heard a fight n' I hoped I wasn't too late… Everything went quiet 'n I had to choose a direction. I heard you call out and you said 'Andy'."

"Oh." You realized he must not have seen your brother. He disappeared right before Sam arrived. "Andy was m' little brother." All of your filters were gone and you spoke very matter of factly as you leaned against the headboard.

Sam's interest piqued. Questions began spilling out of him. "You never mentioned a brother, Y/N. He a hunter too? Where's he now? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Not a hunter. He died. Pretty much gave my life to keep 'im safe and he still died." Once you began talking, you couldn't stop and you didn't care. "Cass read m' mind, so he knows it all." You gestured to the side of your head lazily. "Told Dean a while ago. Didn't say Andy was dead cause it would make Dean feel bad." You picked at the blanket, thinking of the night Dean pulled you from your aunt's house.

"Why would Dean feel bad? 'S sad but Dean would be ok."

"Cause Andy died the night I became a hunter." You explained what was obvious to you as if it should be clear to Sam.

"I still don't understand, Y/N." He patiently prompted you to continue. "Need t' gimme more. When'd you start hunting?"

You let out a deep sigh. "Didn' know they were Gods… Was tryin' to save Andy. They just kept choking him n' drowning him… Finally got a shot in n' was gonna save 'im then that bitch started attacking. Dean shot her and made me leave Andy in the house. Told you to throw me in the car and then he blew it all up."

A look of horror crossed Sam's face. "The night we picked you up, the sea god case?"

"Yup. Night I met you guysss." You tried to hand the bottle to Sam but he ignored it.

"D'n said the entire family was dead 'nside… You lost your whole family?" Disbelief and shock were fighting for dominance in Sam's features.

"My aunt, uncle, cousins, and Andy. Ev'rybody that mattered then." You rolled on your side, facing Sam.

"You weren't a hunter b'fore, you were just—just a regular person?" He just kept staring at you. Your life before the Winchesters was taboo and now he knew why.

You shrugged. "You n' Dean didn't think so. Y'guys thought I was a hunter. Jusss lost everything so when ya asked me if I wanted t' join you, I figured why not? Got nothin' left to lose." It wasn't supposed to be like this. Between you and Andy, only one of you could have a life and you gladly gave yours up for him. He was going to have a career and a family—until you botched the job, until he died on your watch. "Tried to distract the bastard." You threw a pillow across the room in frustration and anger with yourself. "It was supp'sed to be me, always supposed to be me. Andy was gonna have a life. Fuckin' dickwad decided he wanted me as a 'pet' insteada killin' me, so he attacked Andy. I tried, Sammy. I begged n' fought until sonuvabitch made it a game. Said he'd let us go if I brought 'im down b'fore he could kill Andy. He was almos' dead, then I found m' taser n' fried his ass. Coulda saved him, but Galene started throwin' punches, that bitch. Dean showed up outta nowhere and shot her, dragged me outta the house, n' threw me at you."

"Oh God…" Sam ran a hand over his face as he thought through everything you'd just told him. He was clearly at a loss for words.

"Anyways, don't worry, S'mmy. Everything worked out fine. Jus don't tell Dean. I don't want him to be sad." You rested your head on Sam's good arm. "He has alotta feelings right now. Don't let 'im tell you he's fine."

Sam pulled you closer and you weren't sure if it was for your benefit or his. "Y/N… N'body's fine right now." Aside from a deep sigh, he went quiet for a while.

You weren't sure how many minutes passed, but you were content to sit in peace with him. Sam was a rescuer at first, a comrade, your best friend, and somewhere along the way he became your brother. There wasn't a clear moment defining the shift in your relationship and it wasn't like things were with Andy. Sam made you feel… like you would do anything to protect him, but you were ok when you needed him to protect you. You never wanted Andy to see you weak or to be your protector. On the rare occasion it happened, you always felt like you'd failed him.

"What're you thinkin' about?" The deep rumble in his chest had a soothing quality to it.

"Mmm… Hard t' explain." Instantly, you knew Sam would ask you to try.

Sam playfully messed up your hair. "Ya know, you can tell me anything."

"I guess… you're my brother now." Subconsciously, you bit your bottom lip. Sam went still beneath you and his silence gave a megaphone to the anxiety that lurked behind your admission. "I-I mean, you're not Andy and it's not—"

A large arm suddenly wrapped around you. Even one handed, he could pull you into a bone crushing hug. You never denied Sam a hug, but he was too drunk to realize how tightly he was holding you. The pain meds and alcohol didn't do enough to dull the physical pain and you found yourself tapping out. He apologized and took care to hold you gently.

"I've lost Dean so many times. Evr'y time I died inside too. Only way that pain dies is if they come back… I'll never be Andy—but if I get to pick a sister, I pick you."

You were in awe of Sam's words. Honestly, you were expecting him to tell you how flattered he was followed by all the reasons he couldn't be a brother to you. "Sammy, I don't want you to be Andy. I want you to be you." You grimaced as you moved away from him. It was important for him to see your face. "Always took care of Andy. Woulda' died before asking him for help. Thanks for showin' me what having a sibling's really like. Well, except for the demons n' stuff. M' pretty sure that's not normal."

Sam chuckled at your last statement. "No. No, you're right, it's not normal." His face was suddenly grew serious again as he formed a thought. "So… you lost everyone t' a sea god and started hunting… still not the weirdest thing I've heard of, but there's other stuff." His face was screwed up in concentration. You could tell he was thinking hard about something.

"Other stuff?"

"Yeah…" Sam's eyes focused on yours. "Like, we thought you were a hunter 'cause there was no record of you in the family for the case—"

"Andy lived with my aunt and cousins." Adrenaline suddenly spiked through the pleasant haze of alcohol and burned up the edges of your buzz. You could see Sam wasn't done.

"I remember. But I was sayin', you also took down a _god_ by yourself. How did you know what to do? You know so much lore. And then I remember patching you up with Dean. You had some rough scars we thought were from hunting… Those weren't from hunting. What happen'd to you?"

"Sammy…" Your voice held a warning tone as anxiety pushed down the remainder of your numbness. He was going too far, asking too many questions that were off limits. Admitting to liking lore and occult books as a kid might not be so bad if you didn't say _why_ they appealed to you. But talking about the scars… _No._

He either didn't hear your warning or ignored it. "The way you shoot a gun and handle knives… How'd you learn?" Words were spilling out of his mouth now that Sam's filter was gone, he was going to say whatever he was thinking.

"Stop, Sam." You narrowed your eyes and lowered your voice. There was no way you were going to talk about your dad and you were taking the truth of his death with you to the grave.

"But Y/N, it jus' doesn' make sense. I mean—"

"Please just stop!" You didn't mean to shout at Sam, it just sort of came out. He looked stunned, as if you had just slapped him. "Sam, I-I'm s'rry. I just… I can't…"

He held up a hand and sighed. "I know… And I know better than to ask. I just—I got carried away and I'm not thinking straight." He tried to smile but it fell flat. "It's like I think I know you and then this…"

Sam's comment hurt. You just told him something you'd never told anyone. "I'm still me, Sam." You nervously twisted the blankets in your fingers.

"Yeah, but I mean, who's that? _Who were you_? Dean and I, we let you in and made assumptions. But we let you in. You know everything there's t' know about us." Sam spoke softly, but when you looked into his eyes he was practically screaming. Neither of you liked double standards. "When are you gonna let us in?"

"This is part of why I never told you and Dean about that night." You shook your head to hide tears that threatened to fall. "I don't want who I was to matter. That girl, she died in the fire." _Maybe even before that._ "You would've never asked _her_ to join you like you asked me."

"You act like that girl is dead, but she's not."

Not wanting to see Sam's reaction, you kept your eyes forward as you spoke. "What if I never tell you guys? I thought the only thing that mattered to you was who I am now."

Sam was taken aback. He and Dean had both said that when they realized how much the discussion of your past hurt you. "It is the only thing that matters. I just—" His face screwed up in frustration when you glanced his way. "I jus' wanna to know you—all of you, not jus' the-the hunter version of you."

"No, Sam." He was drunk and he was pushing way harder than he normally would. The booze wasn't helping you either. It loosened your lips and put you on this emotional rollercoaster. Right now anger, frustration, and sadness rose up and fought for control. "We jus got Dean back n' you wanna open veins?" _Fuck._ You felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. "You saw wha' he was like… I just spent all summer with 'im n' fuckin' Crowley b'fore he finally left me jus' like he left you. We get 'im back and-and—" Your breathing started coming in quick and shallow breaths.

"Hey…" Sam wrapped his arm around you in an effort to calm you. "It's ok, Y/N."

"But it's not!" You were on the verge of hyperventilating and barely holding back a flood of tears. A part of your brain was telling you to stop talking but calm logic wasn't in control. "I heard you talkin' t' Cass. You were gonna kill Dean and I panicked. Couldn' let you do it, even texted Crowley for help—"

"What?!" Sam stiffened in shock before holding you tighter.

"Bastard said no. N' Dean… was in so much pain. Before he… got loose… you didn' see 'im. He was talking t' me. Was almos' like he was back." You swallowed a lump in your throat. You'd broken the first rule of hunting and let your guard down. "This whole thing's my fault… nearly cost us Dean. We could've all died."

"Wha'ever happen'd in the dungeon wasn't your fault." Sam sounded a little bit more sober now.

"I let m'self think he was back, Sammy. Houdini doesn't have shit on Dean when it comes to locks. Got too close, if I'd stayed back, he wouldn't've gotten my bobby pin and he wouldn't've been able t' knock me out." You looked down at some of your bruises in the dim light. "He beat me, Sam. Dean cuffed me before beating and choking me. And the things he said, he'd never _need_ to use a knife on me… He can barely look at me or touch me now. It wasn' rlly him, but I can't unsee it either."

One look at Sam told you he was going to shove down his pain and try reassuring you. "Y/N—"

"Can you unsee the hammer?"

Sam paused, his mouth remained open at the thought.

"Don' tell me you're ok 'cause that's bullshit. Nobody's ok." Vaguely, you were aware that you were shaking.

He closed his mouth and remained silent for a moment. "We don' have to talk about that yet." Sam decided to pick up the bottle for another drink. "I still wanna know more 'bout from before." He passed the bottle to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh after taking a large swig to calm your nerves. "No." Sam didn't get it.

Sam leaned back and took another sip. He was trying to think of the magic words that would make you give him more information. Obviously coming up with nothing, he let out a breath and dropped the topic. "You tired?"

"A little." You weren't about to pass out, but you could do with some peace. Despite Sam letting up, there was some tension in the room.

"Me too." Sam stood up, wavering slightly. He was definitely drunk, but not exhausted. "I should go t' bed. Want me to grab Cass?" More than likely, Sam was going to go off and drink more by himself before passing out tonight. You couldn't blame him and you weren't going to stop him.

As for Cass… You thought about whether you wanted to be alone or not right now. With everything that happened, there was no telling what your subconscious had in store for you. Normally, you'd ask for Dean but something stopped you. "Yeah. Get Cass."

"Right." Sam stumbled out of your room, turning the light off on his way out.

You wrapped Castiel's trench coat around yourself. Dean's jacket still covered your pillow. You laid down on your side and inhaled the smell of Dean's soap and the lingering smell of smoke that never left his clothes.

You could tell the moment Cass entered the room. He wasn't trying to sneak in but it was more about his presence. Angels' true forms were larger than their vessels and sometimes it felt like you could feel him taking up the whole room. He stood in silence, watching you for a few minutes. Castiel could tell if you were sleeping or not when he was powered up. You started to wonder if he was reading your mind when he finally walked towards you. You'd had conversations about how if he continued to sneak up on hunters, he'd get shot or stabbed. The last one was after you'd accidentally stabbed him during a shifter hunt with a silver blade. He was still powered up and able to heal himself, but you felt terrible about it. After that, he seemed to get the message.

The bed dipped behind you as he sat down. He only acted this obvious when he was really trying hard not to startle you. "Sam sent me. He appeared to be quite…"

"Drunk? Yeah, me too." You rolled on to your back so you could see the angel.

Light from the hallway illuminated his face enough that you could see his slight frown. "I thought as much." Cass sighed. "Unfortunately, I cannot heal you."

You shrugged your shoulders as much as you could. "Meh, kinda figured." He would've healed you in the hallway when he first saw you if he could've. "But you're all… glowy again so s'methin's up."

"You drank too much." There was a slight tone of disapproval in his voice. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"Pssh… you tol' me you drank a whole liquor store once." You hoped he was powered up enough to see you roll your eyes at him in the dark.

"Yes, and that was a mistake." He reached for something near the bed and inched closer to you. "Here, drink this." Cass sighed and held what looked like a plastic bottle.

"What is it?"

"Mostly water but the label claims it contains electrolytes. Sam bought you food, did you eat it?"

"Yeah." You sat up, took the cold bottle from Cass, and began to sip it.

"Good. I remember hangovers as not being pleasant." He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, worry still laced his voice.

"I'll be fine." You waved off his concern. "But you, you still owe me an explanation, Cass."

His head tilted and you could nearly make out his puzzled look. "Explanation?"

"Cass, you were dying." The thought saddened you. "Like really, f'rever dead, dying."

The angel sat up straighter. "Oh. That."

"Yeah, that. I was researchin', but I didn't do anything. Things got too messy too fast on my end."

Cass clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "I was going to talk to you about that. I saw some of your… notes." He paused for a moment and you waited for him to continue. "At the moment, I'm living on stolen grace."

"You killed an angel?" You looked up at him wide eyed. Castiel was in bad shape before. Killing another angel would've been nearly impossible.

Cass held up a hand. "We'll get to that. First, I have to tell you something." He let out a deep sigh. "I don't want you killing angels to steal grace for me."

"But Cass—"

His voice was firm as he continued. "No, Y/N. It's too dangerous and it'll put you on heaven's radar." You could practically feel his blue eyes staring you down before he spoke again. This time, he sounded a little sad. "In fact, I've decided that my grace is my problem. I don't want you or Sam and Dean involved."

This wasn't a debate. He wasn't going to hear anything you had to say even if you could successfully debate with him. "Cass…" Your voice broke on his name.

His hand returned to your shoulder and he gave a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not giving up, I'll find a solution."

You hesitantly agreed.

"Now, as for how I'm alive. I've been traveling with a fellow angel, Hannah. Our mission was to convince angels remaining on earth to return to heaven. It proved… more complicated than it sounds."

After the fall, all the angels should've been ecstatic to go back home, this didn't make sense. "Why? What happened?"

"It seems some angels prefer to live among humans on earth rather than in heaven. There were two living in the woods together. There were… complications. Murder, revenge, more murder and revenge basically."

Things were vaguely falling in to place. "So you defended yourself and stole grace?"

"No, I was in a severely weakened state. One of the angels survived and came after us. She was bent on avenging her partner. We were ambushed." Cass went silent for a moment.

Something seemed wrong. His demeanor was starting to raise alarms in your mind. "Cass… What happened?"

"Y/N, I need you to be honest with me."

"What about?" You were puzzled as to what Castiel wanted to know.

"Did you contact Crowley?"

Random. "Uh, yeah…" Might as well admit it. "Overheard Sam talkin' to you on the phone. Dean was looking real bad and… I kinda lost it. Didn't know who else t' ask. Bastard said no. Why?"

Castiel ran a hand over his face. "Crowley showed up. He murdered the angel that was attacking us… after stealing her grace."

 _Crowley saved Cass… CROWLEY saved Cass?!_ "No…" Your entire being felt like it was about to explode. This was the fucking cherry on top of the shit sundae you'd lived through. The demon that had been the architect of all your pain was the one now responsible for saving your best friend. _No… he saved everyone…_ You put the pieces together and realized that Crowley saved Castiel because he knew he would be merely pushing the first domino over in a chain reaction to save you and the Winchesters after your call. Crowley also knew that messing with Castiel would be a guaranteed way to drive you insane.

Castiel sensed your tailspin and placed a hand on your cheek in an effort to calm you. "Please, I can't tune your thoughts out while you're screaming." His kind eyes faintly glowed blue as a reminder to you that he was no longer human or low on grace.

Normally, staying out of your head wasn't a problem. Cass said thoughts only got too be too loud to tune out during hunts. _Deep breaths. Calm down._

After a few moments you regained composure, Cass spoke again. "Better." You could see it in his face how badly he wanted to fix you and how it pained him that he couldn't. "Crowley offered me the stolen grace and I took it. He told me Dean was becoming a problem and that I should get here quickly to resolve the issue."

"Anything else?" You nearly held your breath. There's no way he did this out of the goodness of his heart.

"You should know that Crowley said that you and I both 'owe him one.'"

"One what?"

"He didn't say. I'm assuming he will ask us for a favor in the future."

 _Shit._

"Exactly." Castiel's eyes widened when he realized what had happened. "Sorry… I—I'm having trouble tuning everyone out today."

"It's ok. You didn't mean to." You could forgive Cass for an occasional slip. If he hadn't been listening earlier, he might not have found you in the hallway or stopped Dean. "How are Dean and Sam right now?" You might as well ask since he couldn't help hearing.

His head tilted slightly. "They're significantly quieter than earlier. My best guess is that Dean is sleeping and that Sam has nearly passed out."

You nodded. "Good." The bottle you'd been drinking from was empty now. You sat up and set it on your nightstand. "Hey, Cass?"

"Yes?"

Gingerly, you began trying to move towards him. Geez, everything was starting to hurt again.

"You shouldn't move. You may injure yourself further."

 _Ugh, he's right. It hurts too much anyways._ "Then come here Feather Brain. I have something to tell you." The angel leaned in closer and you wrapped your arms around him. He immediately returned the embrace. "Tune in for a minute. Ok?"

Castiel hesitated. "Are you sure?" He looked at you with careful consideration.

You nodded in reply.

"I'm listening."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to open the floodgates of all the thoughts and feelings you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud. _"You almost died, don't you ever do that again! You can't do that to me or the Winchesters. Thank you. Thank you for saving all of us and curing Dean. And please don't leave. Please stay here tonight. Everything hurts and I'm so scared and it's dark—_ "

You pulled away when you realized where your thoughts were going. Castiel used his thumb to brush a tear from your cheek in the darkness. He'd heard it and felt it all but thankfully said nothing.

"I'm sure you're tired. You need sleep to heal as well." He got up and for a moment you were afraid he might go. Instead, he simply moved to the chair near your bed. "Both Sam and Dean asked me to watch over you tonight since I don't sleep. I'll just wait here, if you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. G'night, Feathers." You laid back feeling a little bit better and let sleep wash over you.


End file.
